


Devil Guards My Door

by ArchOfImagine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Drug Addiction, F/M, M/M, Past Character Death, Past Child Abuse, daddy!dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-01-20 01:20:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1491427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchOfImagine/pseuds/ArchOfImagine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the worst thing Sam Winchester has to face is moving in with his new roommate at Stanford, a second year theology major named Castiel, that would be great. Unfortunately he also has a drug-addict brother and a one-year-old nephew to help with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sam is 18, Dean is 22, and Castiel is 24.
> 
>  **Info:** This story has been sitting unfinished for a long time now and it still weighs on my mind, so in an attempt to get it completed, I'm redoing the chapters and editing a lot of it (because it was pretty atrocious). So most of it will be the same material, but a small portion has been added. It will also get an ending, once the rest has been edited.

_Second year theology major seeks roommate to share two bedroom, two bathroom house._

\---

It was school policy for all freshmen students to live on campus — Sam Winchester had never been good at following the ‘norm.’ He had dealt with a long line of bad luck in his life, so it wasn’t very surprising that college would be the same way. Just a month into school, his dorm mate woke up in the middle of the night and had either a mental breakdown or one helluva bad dream. Sam woke up with hands grasping tightly to his neck as the other student tried to strangle him.

Thankfully he had a weight advantage over the boy, and it didn’t take much for Sam to roll them off of his bed and pin the kid to the floor before knocking him out with a solid slap to the face.

When campus security arrived, they initially blamed Sam for the confrontation — until they saw the bruises beginning to appear on Sam’s throat. 

His dorm mate woke up without any recollection of what happened, and the next day the school offered Sam two choices: they could place him with another student in a different hall, or he could search for an off-campus apartment. The past four weeks of dorm life that he had experienced had taught him one valuable lesson: he would be far happier off-campus. It had the potential of being quieter, would allow him more freedom, and he could fix and eat healthier meals than what the cafeteria offered.

He spent the day calling on advertisements for roommates wanted, and after another night in a hotel he finally found what he was looking for. 

Castiel Novak was a second year theology major with a small two bedroom, two bath house just a few blocks south of campus. It was walking distance, and if Sam calculated in the amount of money he would save by not keeping his campus meal plan, it was within budget.

It took a week to get settled in, but Sam liked the place. And his new roommate seemed calm, sane, and not at all homicidal.

On the Thursday after his move-in, Sam sat at the kitchen table studying from a pile of books, when Castiel walked in. His roommate paused on his way past and lifted the cover of one of the books. 

“Nice. Psychology 101. Who’s your instructor?”

"Leroy," Sam replied. He was starting to learn that psychology would not be a subject he pursued in the future. Some of the more intense topics, had hit just a _little_ too close to home. "I made wheat waffles. There are some leftovers in the microwave, if you want."

"I had Leroy. He makes you study a serial killer as your final assignment, then you have to defend the killer’s innocence. It was kind of interesting." Castiel opened the microwave door and smiled approvingly as he pulled out the plate of leftovers. "You know, it isn't in our roommate agreement that you have to consider me when cooking."

"It's just nice to have an actual kitchen. Plus I'm used to cooking for two — my brother and I were fairly co-dependent as children and if he had his way, cooking would only involve pouring milk over cereal." Sam closed his notebook and looked up to watch Castiel pouring powdered sugar over his buttered waffles. "So I googled the definition of your name, out of sheer curiosity, and now I’m beginning to understand why you’re a theology major."

Castiel let out a sharp laugh as he sat down across from Sam. “That obvious, huh?” Sam nodded. "My life would have been so much easier if my parents were hippies. I’d much rather deal with a name like ‘Cedar’ or ‘Prairie.’" 

Sam’s eyebrows shot up. “You would?”

“Okay, no. But still.” Castiel took a bite of his breakfast, before shrugging his shoulders and smiling at Sam. “I guess it could have been worse, you know. I mean — I have an older brother named _Balthazar._ Do you know how hard it is to come up with an appropriate nickname for Balthazar? Poor guy goes by _John_.”

"Exactly how many angelic children are in your family?"

"Four." He ate the waffles slowly, ticking off his siblings in between bites of food. "Balthazar is the eldest, then myself, Gabriel and Michael."

Sam could remember how hard his own childhood had been with Dean there — always ready to either worry 24/7 about Sam, or just be a major pain in the ass. “One brother was bad enough; I can't imagine dealing with three."

Laughing, Castiel shook his head. "Two brothers. Funny story, my dad wanted to wait to use Michael. He claims that God told him which names we should have and that it never felt right to use _that name_ for us. Unfortunately my mom’s last pregnancy left her unable to have anymore kids so dad decided that he would use Michael no matter what. He had to... what good would an angelic flock of children be without a Michael right?"

"You have a sister... named Michael?"

"Bingo." Castiel smirked at the mere mention of his little sister. "She is, of course, a spoiled rotten baby... so my brothers and I call her Luci." 

Sam was just about to ask, when realization dawned on him. "Lucifer? You nicknamed your baby sister after the devil?" His roommate only shrugged in reply, causing Sam to laugh. He thought holidays were bad as a _Winchester._

After finishing his meal, Castiel took his plate to the sink and rinsed it off, before heading back towards his bedroom. "I have to get dressed. My World Religions class starts in thirty minutes."

"Yeah, I think I’ll take psychology over _that_ any day." In just the few short days that he had lived with Cas, Sam had only seen his roommate excited about one class — remarkably, it was the only class not focused on theology.

Sam's life might not have been perfect, but he had to admit that it was nice being able to pick and choose his own career path. He couldn’t imagine having parents there to decide his fate for him.

"Hey Sam," Cas called out, "your phone is ringing from your room."

"Shit!" In a rush he got up from the table and hurried down the hallway to his bedroom. He had completely forgotten about his brother's weekly call to check on him. Dean was adamant that after the previous week and Sam’s near-death-by-roommate — there would be no missed calls without full-fledged panic. Sam dove across his bed, sliding so quickly that he almost went flying into the wall on the other side, and just _barely_ managed to answer the phone before it stopped ringing. "Dean, hey," he spoke, more than a little out of breath.

Dean, ever vigilant, immediately suspected something was amiss. "Sammy, what's wrong? Did that guy find you at your new house? I'm getting in the car now. I'll be there in half an hour—"

"I'm fine, Dean! I left my phone in my room when I woke up. Castiel told me it was ringing so I rushed in here and about killed myself trying to get to it." When Sam reached the age of picking out colleges, Dean was adamant that he could go to whatever school he wanted — anywhere in the world. The only catch was Dean would live within an hour of the school. It was both an irritating and comforting thought, knowing that his brother was just in Sacramento if anything went wrong.

After finding out about the issue in the dorm, Dean stormed the castle walls of Stanford, demanding that the student be thrown in jail and refused entrance into any college in the future. Sam was also certain that Dean had made it abundantly clear that if anything else happened to his little brother, heads would roll... literally.

The pause on the other end of the line signaled that Dean was trying to decide if Sam was answering with a lie under distress. After a moment, he obviously decided otherwise as he finally spoke. "Ah yes, Castiel. How do you like your new roommate?"

"He's great," Sam answered genuinely. He couldn't have landed into a better situation. Cas was clean, polite, and hadn't shown any interest in rock music at odd hours. "You'll like him, Dean. He's a couple years older than you — says he started college late after spending a few years at a monastery in Tibet."

"Right. Religious studies major. Who knew priests had to go to college. How many years does it take to learn how to serve God and give up sin?"

Sam heard voices in the background of Dean's end of the phone line. When one of them let out a very enthusiastic 'no!', Sam laughed. "Sounds like my nephew is refusing his vegetables again."

Dean let out a groan and Sam could hear a door shutting, signalling that Dean had gone into a different room — probably out to his garage where he spent most of his free time. "I'm going to ship the kid to you, Sammy, and you can teach him some of that health nut San Francisco bullshit."

"Not going to happen. Lisa is still punishing me for teaching him how to say no." There was a pause and Sam felt compelled to ask, "How is she?"

"Good, I guess. She decided three days ago that she wants to go back to work — hasn't stopped bitching about it since." He knew he wasn't imagining the aggravation in Dean's voice. What had started as a summer fling was forced to become a lot more serious when Lisa got pregnant. Almost two years later and Sam knew Dean only stayed because of his responsibility to the baby. "I keep explaining to her that we can't exactly afford childcare on what our combined pay would be. So she wants me to cut back at work so she can work opposite."

Sounded like an easy way of getting away from Dean as much as possible. Sam wasn't sure he blamed her. 

"How about you guys drive out here this weekend, I'll watch Ben and you can go out to dinner? Maybe talking like adults away from the baby will help you keep level heads about the situation. Plus, you can meet Castiel." Sam had no idea how his roommate would react to the prospect of a one year old hanging out with them, but he couldn't imagine Castiel complaining about the situation. He couldn't imagine him complaining about much at all, other than theology classes.

Dean sighed, and Sam could picture him rubbing a hand along the back of his neck like he always did when contemplating doing something he didn't really want to. He would rather deal with the Lisa situation by simply ignoring it. Sam doubted they even shared a bedroom anymore. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to ask her. We have a few extra bucks laying around for a nice burger somewhere."

"A burger joint is never a nice dinner location, Dean." Sam rolled his eyes. "Let me know tomorrow, my class is over at three, so you can call after work."

"Fine. Keep your nose clean, Sammy." 

"Goodbye, Dean." His brother hung up without saying goodbye, and though he knew the reasons why Dean avoided the word, he didn't have the time or the emotional stability to contemplate it.


	2. Chapter 2

Night time was the worst. 

During the day, Dean was so busy with work that he could actually fool his mind into believing he and Lisa were figuring everything out. But at night, when she gave him that look that clearly said 'I wish you were someone better,' he couldn't deny how much he hated himself and his current situation.

Ben, of course, was great. Despite his moods and crankiness, Dean loved the boy to death — probably because Ben had obviously inherited all of his character flaws from Dean. When Ben refused his vegetables, Dean wanted nothing more than to slide a sugary confection in his direction, knowing that it was exactly what the boy would enjoy. They were one and the same. 

Hell, Ben didn't even look like his mother — he was a miniature Dean, up one side and down the other.

"You know you can come to bed, right?" Lisa spoke, standing at the end of the hall and watching him on the sofa. 

Dean wished he was the type of man that could stand up, follow her down the hall to the bedroom and be everything she needed. But he wasn't, so he remained seated, hands idly playing at his bottle of beer. 

When he didn't reply, she let out an aggravated huff. "Damn it, Dean! I know why we’re both here. I'm not stupid enough to believe that you actually love me. But you can’t claim you're here to be involved and then sit on the couch getting drunk! Especially when it's obvious you have one foot out the door."

After working in construction all day, he didn't have the energy or the desire to fight. Even if he did, there was no way he could handle the look on her face once heated words started to be thrown. He tried for distraction, instead. "Sammy wants us to bring Ben to see him Friday. Said he would babysit while we go grab a bite to eat."

"That's your answer then? Trying to buy me off with dinner?" Lisa shook her head. "I don't expect much, Dean. Not after... everything. But could you at least pretend you like me?" She waited another minute before taking a deep breath and walking over to him. Hand outstretched... she waited, hoping he would ignore his demons for once and give in to her.

It took so long that she was ready to give up, but he finally grasped her hand and stood up, towering over her by more than a few inches. Instead of pulling her off to the bedroom, like she wanted, he leaned forward to kiss her cheek. "Goodnight, Lisa," he whispered. His hold on her hand dropped, and he skirted past her as he headed for the garage.

"Fuck you, Dean Winchester!" She yelled, obviously not caring that she might wake the baby up.

\---

Sitting in the driver's seat of his Impala, Dean rolled the key in his hand and knew he was fighting a losing battle. He could tell himself no a million times, but with the key already in his hand, he knew where he was going.

Beer just wasn't going to cut it. He tried to remind himself that a month before he had sworn that he would never fall off the 'wagon' again, but as he dialed the familiar number, Dean wondered if he had ever really been on the wagon to begin with. He was an addict, whether he went a day without, or a week. 

The phone rang once, before someone picked up on the other end of the line. "Yeah?"

"Meg." He still had a chance... he could still hang up the phone and be a better man! 

"Deany boy. I've missed you. Life just isn't the same without you."

She was always so Goddamn cheery! Like she knew all along that he would come running back, never once worrying that he had turned the tide and tried to become the man he wanted to be. "I need some, Meg." 

"I don't blame you. Suburban life is a fucking bore." Meg chuckled. He hated her, but she was the best in the business for the price that he paid. "I'll be at the warehouse for another hour. Get here, and I should have what you need."

He closed the phone to end the conversation and threw it in the seat beside him. The key flicked around in his hand once more. He could still turn back. A better man would... but the whole world knew he wasn't a better man. Putting the key in the ignition, he felt the Impala come to life beneath him as he reached up to hit the button for the garage door. 

Metallica played and he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove toward the old abandoned warehouse where Meg liked to set up shop. At least he wasn't going to a dark alley like he had as a kid — he still couldn't trust people named Don, after that.

Meg was waiting for him when he pulled up, leather jacket half zipped and dark brown hair curled around her shoulders. Dean shut the Impala off and got out, walking over to where she stood by the open trunk of her car. “Hey,” he mumbled, hands tucked into his pockets.

"Dean,” Meg tsked. “Life would be so much easier if you stopped fooling yourself about this sobriety shit."

"Let it go, Meg." Stepping forward, he laid his hand on the edge of the trunk and peered inside at the contents. She had a veritable pharmacy in the small space — everything a heart could ever desire if price wasn't a factor. As it was, Dean stuck to a strict budget, always keeping in the back of his mind the fact that he had a family to support. 

"What's your pleasure, Freckles? I ain't got all night." She moved forward, laying a hand on the trunk lid and threatening to close it before he had a chance to buy. It was just a play, of course, she would never give up a guaranteed sale.

And, unfortunately, Dean was _always_ a guaranteed sale. Fighting back a sigh, he pointed to the pills he needed. "Give me a bottle of twenty."

Her eyebrows raised. It wasn't his usual fix — but he didn't want an easy high that would make the world better; he wanted to do everything in his power to avoid his demons. "Your OD, I guess." She pulled out the bottle but held it out of reach as she held out her hand for the money. Dean passed her more bills than he should, but at least it would keep him going for a while. Meg counted the money, before giving him the prescription bottle sans label. "Nice doing business with you, Dean." She slammed the lid shut and left him standing as she moved to get in the car.

She had already sped off by the time he climbed back into the Impala. 

He threw the bottle on the seat next to him and headed back to the life that he hated.

\---

Friday night, Sam finally prepared his new roommate for the madness that was about to arrive. He started with asking if it was okay to watch Ben there for a couple hours — giving Cas the chance to find something else to keep him occupied in case he didn't want to be bothered by a one-year-old all night — Cas' reply was a resounding 'of course!' followed by an exclamation of how much he loved kids.

Then Sam brought up the next important part of the equation. "So... there are a few things you should know before meeting my brother and Lisa." Sam glanced up from his homework to where Castiel sat on the other side of the table, also studying. They had another hour before Dean was supposed to drop Ben off.

Curiosity obviously piqued, Cas looked up. "You mean it isn't as simple as: 'here's the kid, thanks for letting us go out’?"

"I wish." If only his whole life had been so simple, Sam thought. "Dean and Lisa were only supposed to be a fling, but she got pregnant. Dean is the kind of guy that doesn't skip out on responsibility, so he stepped up and took on his new role as father and boyfriend."

"Very admirable," Cas commented, scribbling out another note on the sheet of paper in front of him.

Sam sighed. "Very. Unfortunately, my brother hates being tied down — which means hating everything about his life except Ben. Dean and Lisa have had a lot of issues, mostly thanks to my brother. Lisa has decided now that she wants to go back to work and schedule her life opposite of Dean's so that she doesn't have to see him. Which is why I suggested this date night. I'm hoping a night out will remind them both that there are things they like about each other — before it gets any worse."

"So what you are saying is, I shouldn't be at all surprised if they walk in and act like they hate each other?"

"Pretty much," Sam nodded. Silence fell over them for a while as they both studied. When Sam spoke again, he couldn't help but ask, "So, are your siblings as dramatic as mine?"

"Well they are dramatic, but not in the same way that Dean seems to be." Castiel closed his book and looked up at Sam. "Gabriel is the worst. Luci calls him the 'trickster' because of all the practical jokes he's played on people. Most of the time he thinks he's being funny when really he's just being an asshole. I'm not sure he's ever been serious about anything. And then of course, there’s Balthazar. He lives on a farm in Washington with his boyfriend Nate. We’re all fairly certain that they’re growing pot — but no one has been up to prove that theory yet. Balthazar had a falling out with my parents and Gabriel a few years back — so he's very anti-family at the moment. If anyone hears from him, it's usually me."

Despite their obvious eccentricities, based on what Cas was saying, Sam couldn't help but long for such a normal family life. Having siblings that played tricks on each other and then spent a few years not talking — but would always be there if the need arose. And parents. God, he would give anything just to have parents that were so... normal. And alive.

There was a knock, causing Sam to shake out of his thoughts as he stood up, smiling at the prospect of seeing his brother. It had only been a week, but he did miss him. Opening the door, he laughed at the sight of Dean standing there looking aggravated with Ben in his arms babbling and shaking a toy. He hadn't quite mastered hand control while holding an object, yet, so when the toy slammed into Dean's face, Sam laughed even harder, holding his hands out to take his nephew.

Ben slipped into his arms willingly, happy to see his uncle, and Sam stepped out of the way so that Dean could walk into the house. "Where's Lisa?"

"Car." Dean set Ben's diaper bag down on the floor and looked over to where Castiel stood at the entrance to the kitchen. Sam watched both men with a slight frown as they sized each other up. "You must be Cas," Dean finally spoke — right when the silence was about to hit the awkward stage.

Though Sam hadn't mentioned the nickname to Dean, he noticed that Dean automatically used it and Castiel didn't seem bothered by it at all. He merely held his hand out to shake Dean's as he nodded. "Nice to finally meet you, Dean."

Another long moment of them staring at each other... and Sam tried to figure out what was with the two of them. They acted like they had met before, but Sam knew that wasn't possible. Though Dean did everything he could to protect his little brother, he didn't have the connections to set up a random roommate bodyguard.

"Just 'fyi'... if you try to murder my brother, like his last roommate, I will hunt you down and kill you myself."

The statement left Cas momentarily speechless, so Dean turned to Sam and Ben. His voice wasn't nearly as dark when he spoke again — easily going from protective older brother to Ben's inexperienced dad. "We'll be back in a couple of hours. I'll text you and let you know. Lisa put a note in his bag about what to feed him." Dean pointed a finger at Ben, making the same serious face that he used to make when addressing Sam when he was little. "Be good."

"Buh-bye," Ben managed, waving.

Dean left, keys already in his hands as he shut the door behind him.

Sam and Castiel stood there for another long minute, Ben babbling happily from Sam's arms.

"So," Cas finally said, a frown creasing his brow, "He's uh... blunt."

"Yeah." He nodded. "Don't worry, eventually you'll get used to it and he might even seem likable."


	3. Chapter 3

\--- Two years earlier; Cicero, Indiana ---

Dean left behind the snow and cold as he stepped into the small backwoods bar. After eleven hours on the road with his little brother, he'd had enough and quickly secured the 16-year-old in a motel room before crossing the street to the bar. Though he wouldn't be old enough to drink for another four months, his pocket full of fake identification guaranteed him a good time. He sat down on a barstool, ordering a beer and a shot of whiskey.

The pills in his system, from two days before, were still going strong — keeping him way too wired to sleep. If he didn't get drunk enough to sleep that night, he wouldn't be in a good state the next day. And he'd be damned if he was going to let Sammy drive the Impala while he slept off the drugs.

As he swallowed down the provided whiskey, the stool beside of his scraped along the floor. Dean set the shot glass on the counter and looked to his right, shocked to see a hot brunette sitting beside of him with a plastered on smile. It usually took longer than that — and he usually had to 'prowl.’

"Hey, beautiful," he spoke, picking up his beer and chasing down the whiskey.

"Hey," her smile grew. "I'm Lisa. I haven't seen you around before—”

\---

After sex and copious amounts of liquor, Dean finally slept. The next morning he left Lisa's apartment before she woke and made it back to Sam at the motel right before check out — with enough time to spare for a shower. They drove out of Cicero, Indiana, and the last thing on Dean's mind was Lisa... he was moving on, focused on getting back to Uncle Bobby in Sioux Falls. They were scheduled to make more delivery runs in two days, and he needed to get his system cleaned out before then. Plus, if he had learned anything while living on the road, it was that a person had to stay unattached if they wanted to survive. Missing a one-night-stand would get him nowhere, so he filed Lisa Braeden away with all of the other girls.

Life went on like it normally would: Dean drank, Sam studied, and Bobby sat around yelling about 'idjits' in the car repair business.

Two months after the night in Cicero, Dean got a call on his cellphone from an unknown number. He didn't even recognize the area code, but considering it could be one of Bobby's parts dealers asking about a shipment, he answered. "Hello?"

"Dean!" A female voice exclaimed, followed by a small thankful sigh on the other end of the line. "I'm glad you answered. It's Lisa."

Dean was beyond confused. He wracked his brain, trying to remember the names of all the parts dealers that he and Sam worked with for Bobby. He could only remember one or two females — none of whom were named Lisa. "Who?"

"Lisa Braeden. From Indiana?" Her voice changed, obviously becoming a little unhappy at the prospect of not being remembered. "God, Dean, it was only two months ago."

Surprisingly, it was the location, rather than the name, that reminded him. "Lisa, hey. I'm sorry," he wasn't really, but he had no idea why she was calling so he had to go along with it and keep her happy. "This is my work number — I was trying to place the name with someone from work."

"Oh!" Her tone brightened again but was still a bit reserved. "I didn't realize that. I just used the number you gave me when you were here...." She paused, but not long enough for him to interrupt. "Listen, Dean, we need to talk. Are you in the area?"

Fuck. He suddenly felt nervous, imagining all of the diseases she had probably given him unknowingly. He had used a condom, right? He frowned, barely able to picture her face, let alone whether or not he had used a rubber. How long did it take for herpes symptoms to show up? "As luck would have it, I'm driving through there tomorrow. Cicero, right? You want to meet for lunch or something?"

"Yeah." She named a cafe and a time, before saying goodbye and hanging up in a rush.

Thankfully, they had a run scheduled for the next week to Indianapolis; he could easily bump up the delivery date without raising suspicion from his brother or Bobby.

\---

The next day he was early, but he only had enough time to order a cup of coffee before Lisa was sitting down across from him. He smiled nervously, one hand moving down to lay against his crotch. He really didn't want to start growing weird shaped sores... he also really needed to start paying better attention while having sex. And no sex while under the influence of narcotics… Maybe he should make a list.

"Hey," she said softly, only catching his gaze for a moment.

Dean waited long enough for the waitress to bring them both drinks, before he asked in a rush, "Is my dick going to fall off? Just... answer that for me. Whatever the disease is... I'd rather be dead than walk around like a castrated freak."

"What?!" Lisa looked incredibly confused. 

"My dick. Will I lose it when I start showing symptoms of the STD you gave me?"

She looked at him like he was stupid. "I'm pregnant, Dean."

He opened his mouth to reply, but stopped... suddenly processing what she had said. He had came to accept — thanks to his fear of dick rot — that he probably hadn't used a condom. 

Remarkably, though, he hadn't once considered the possibility that she might be pregnant.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure it's _mine_?"

"Yes."

Well... _fuck_. As if his life wasn't fucked up enough. "I uh..." He was speechless. 

Bobby was going to kill him.

"It's fine," she said, her voice eerily calm as she sipped at her glass of iced tea. "I have an appointment this afternoon... to um... take care of the issue. I still live at home and my parents are pissed." She rolled her eyes and looked up at the ceiling, obviously fighting back tears. "Pregnant at seventeen. I'm so fucking stupid!"

Her last sentence didn't register, as he focused solely on what she had said about the baby. 'Take care of the issue.' Abortion. His skin tingled at the thought. His stupid childish mistake would equal a baby never getting a chance at life. Suddenly, he heard Sam's voice in his head... talking about the desire to one day be a father and prove that he was a better man than John Winchester. At the time, Dean ignored that idea, knowing he would never want to be tied down long enough to have a wife and kids.

But now the opportunity had dropped into his lap and Sam was right. He had to be a better man than John. He couldn't run from the idea of being a responsible parent; he couldn't take the easy way out.

"Whoa!" Suddenly red flags shot up in his mind as he realized what she had said. "Seventeen?" She was only a fucking year older than Sammy?! But she had been at the bar... drinking! Or had she been drinking? Dean was so confused. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down so the whole cafe didn't listen in on their conversation. "You're only seventeen?"

Lisa frowned at him. "You knew that Dean."

He _really_ had to start waiting until he was sober before he got laid. 

"Right." He now felt even more responsible — not just for the baby's well being, but for Lisa's as well. If she went through with the abortion and suffered because of it — it would all be his fault. "Listen, it's ultimately your decision... but I want you to know, if you don't feel like abortion is the right answer, I will take care of you and the baby. Family is important to me, and right now, you're part of that family too. I've got a good job in South Dakota, and I can get an even better one when summer hits."

She remained quiet for a long time, staring into her glass. "You barely even know me," she whispered. "What makes you think we could raise a kid together?"

"I've been raising my little brother since I was ten years old. I might not know babies, but I know kids." The decision would change his life, he knew that, but the thought of her killing his kid made him sick. "I swear on my life... I will do everything in my power to take care of you and our child. No matter what."


	4. Chapter 4

"I'm pretty sure Ben is the coolest baby ever," Cas observed. He was sitting on the couch, textbook open in his lap, but instead of reading, his attention kept moving back to the floor where Sam and Ben were playing.

Sam had emptied the diaper bag of all the toys Lisa packed, before getting comfortable on the floor with his nephew. They settled on a ball, since Ben seemed happiest with it. Sam was trying desperately to teach Ben how to roll the ball along the floor, but when the ball arrived at Ben's feet, he would pick it up and carry it back to Sam with a laugh, instead of rolling it back. It went on and on, making Ben giggle each time like he thought Sam was stupid for continually letting the ball out of his grasp.

Rolling his eyes in amusement, Sam continued their game while replying to Cas, "I like to think that Ben will be the carefree spirit that Dean never got to be." He took the ball from Ben and rolled it across the floor again, watching the baby toddle after it — still learning the balance of a smooth walk. "When we were kids, Dean was forced to grow up way too early. After our parents died, he fought tooth and nail every time we were shipped to a new foster family — making sure we always stayed together and that I was always protected." Taking the ball once more, he looked down at it, feeling sad for the childhood his brother had missed out on. "I'm not sure I have any memories of him laughing when we were little."

Silence fell over the living room, until Ben decided that Sam had held onto the ball for far too long. "Smee!" He demanded.

Sam looked up just in time to see the angry look on his little chubby face, laughing when he realized that the boy had perfected Dean's 'angry' look. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Sammy will roll the ball." He rolled the ball across the floor, causing Ben to giggle, anger forgotten as he resumed their game.

"You know it isn't your fault that Dean's childhood was shitty, right?" Cas finally shut his book, knowing that he wouldn't be able to study with Ben around. The kid was just too amusing. "It was merely the product of bad circumstances."

Sam sighed. "I know. But that doesn't mean it's fair."

\---

Dean let Lisa pick out the restaurant — mainly because he didn't really give a damn where they ate. She had hardly spoken a word since they left Sacramento, and he knew it was because of the argument the night before. He tried really hard, but he couldn't muster the ability to care.

She settled on a Bar and Grill that apparently a friend had told her was good. As Dean followed her into the restaurant, he popped a pill from the bottle in his pocket, trying not to let her see. Spending money on drugs was just another thing for her to bitch about.

The restaurant area was full, so they were led to a booth in the bar... and for a little while, it was actually okay. They talked a little about Ben and all the ways that he had changed in a year; they talked about Sam, and how he seemed to finally be settling in at Stanford. 

What they didn't discuss, though, was her desire to go back to work, or the fact that Dean couldn't sleep in the same bedroom as her thanks to memories of the one time he lost control...

Then Dean, after they were done eating, suggested they play a game of pool like they had on the first night they met.

On his third shot, his focus blurred a bit — a side effect of the pills — and when he shot the pool stick towards the ball, his hand slipped. The back of the stick flung too far behind him, hitting the side of a man playing at the next table over.

Dean stood up straight, turning around and ready to apologize. Unfortunately, the guy — dressed in a business suit and looking disgusted — beat him to it. "God, why do they let this hillbilly trash into our bar? Can't even hold a fucking pool stick." The man sneered, eyes moving from Dean to Lisa. "How about you apologize by letting me show your woman what it's like to be with a real man?"

Unfortunately, thanks to the pills in his system, Dean didn't even blink as he lifted the stick and cracked it over the man's head. The guy fell to the floor littered with splintered wood. He had obviously not anticipated Dean's strength. But Dean didn't let it go at that. He fell to the floor and straddled the guy's waist. He punched without thinking. Over and over. All of his strength focused on causing pain.

The rest was a blur of someone yelling about calling the cops, people screaming, and shaking hands pulling him off of the guy. When the image came back into focus, he was in the Impala and felt like it never really happened.... except, his hands were bloody, and he wasn't driving... Lisa was. She had furious tears in her eyes as she steered the car back towards where Sammy lived. 

Dean was confused.

"How did I get in the car?"

\---

The words only seemed to fuel the fire burning inside of Lisa. She didn't answer, though. He didn’t deserve that, so she chose to remain quiet.

When they arrived at Sam and Castiel's place, she jumped out of the car in a rush, slamming the door shut behind her as she hurried up the front walk. She knocked repeatedly, the tears finally starting to fall.

The door opened and Sam looked confused, holding Ben in his arms as his eyes quickly went from Lisa, to where Dean still sat in the car. "Lisa — what happened?"

"Your brother is a drugged up asshole, that's what happened." She moved past Sam, quickly finding the diaper back and scanning the room, picking up the toys to tuck them back inside. Once she had it, she threw the strap over her shoulder and held out her hands for Ben. The boy went to her, but looked apprehensive at the thought. "Is this all of his stuff?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. He ate about an hour ago, and I just changed him."

"Good." She moved back outside and pointed at the car. "Get him out of there, Sam. I'm not taking him with me."

\---

With a sigh, Sam stepped outside, moving past her and going to the passenger side of the Impala. He didn't blame her for not wanting to deal with Dean on drugs. He really was an asshole when he was high. Opening the door, he leaned down, noting the blood on Dean's knuckles. "Come on, Dean. You can crash on the couch tonight."

Dean didn't argue, which was surprising. Whatever he had taken, it seemed to be causing some serious mood swings.

As they walked past Lisa, she glared. "He isn't allowed home until he's fixed. No drugs. We have a fucking baby in the house, for God's sake!" She stormed to the car, quickly buckling Ben into his car seat in the back, before getting in the driver's seat.

The two brothers stood in front of the house and watched her speed away. Finally, Dean spoke, "What did I do?"

Sam could do nothing more than sigh, as he led his brother inside the house. "You fucked up, Dean, plain and simple."

\---

When Dean woke up, there was sunshine hitting his face. He groaned, rolling over and trying to shield his eyes. Unfortunately, since he assumed he was in his bed at home... rolling over meant rolling off of the couch he was laying on. He hit the floor with a thud and a choked, "Ow."

"I see you're awake," an unfamiliar voice commented.

He was confused, he had a headache, and he wasn't quite sure he had the brain function to deal with the mess around him — so Dean kept his eyes closed, hoping he could fall back asleep. Maybe next time he woke up, it wouldn't feel like he got hit by a bus.

Unfortunately, sleeping would be a lot easier if people didn't keep talking to him.

"Why is he on the floor?" a second voice asked. Sam. That was Sammy, right? Dean frowned, eyes squeezed shut.

"He made a noise, rolled over, and fell off the couch."

"God, why does he have to be so stupid?" The second voice sounded stressed. Definitely Sammy. "I looked up the contents of that bottle online... one more pill and we would be looking at him lying dead in the morgue!"

"Some people struggle to control their demons. They use drugs to suppress the negativity in their minds."

"Yeah, I know. And Dean is the poster boy for demon battles. But I thought he just used alcohol to deal with that. Not... this."

Dean wanted to scream at them to shut up, because he was lying _right there_ trying to sleep. But his mouth was drier than the Sahara desert and his head felt as heavy as a bowling ball. Sammy didn't understand. How could he? Dean had done everything in his power to make sure Sam's life was as normal as possible. And 'everything' was way more than he could handle thinking about. At first alcohol had worked, but it was just a bandaid. A bandaid that fell off way too quickly. It took harder stuff to make the bandage stick.

"Listen, I know you didn't sign up for this but I'm going to be late for work. Do you mind keeping an eye on him, while I'm gone?"

"Of course. It's fine, Sam. I appreciate the need to help one's family — and believe me, my family has just as much drama as yours."

"Thanks, Cas. I've tossed out the pills and poured out the beer from the fridge. We shouldn't have anything here that will hurt him. My guess, if it's anything like all the other times he has woken up with a hangover, he will be a whiney bitch with a headache. I've set out aspirin and there’s coffee in the pot."

"Go. I can handle it, Sam."

"All right. Just... make sure he doesn't leave, okay?"

"We will both be here when you get back."

"Thanks. Again."

\---

While Dean continued to sleep on the floor — which seemed like an appropriate punishment in Castiel's mind — Cas studied, writing up a paper that was due in one of his classes. By the time that Dean finally woke up, Sam had been gone for three hours. Cas watched in amusement as the younger man groaned, holding his head while very slowly pulling himself up off the floor. He made it as far as the couch, before sitting back down.

"Ow."

He had been hungover before, so Cas finally took pity on him, slamming his book shut — maybe a little too loud — before standing and heading for the kitchen. He walked back into the living room a few minutes later with a freshly brewed cup of coffee and three aspirin. Standing beside the couch, he held it out as a peace offering. "Here. Also, please don't throw up on the carpet, the landlord will be angry; the bathroom is down the hall, second door on the right, if need be."

Dean swallowed the pills and sipped slowly at the coffee. He looked like hell with bloodshot eyes, a way-past-five-o’clock shadow on his chin, and his hair sticking up in all directions. Cas was amazed at the obvious differences between Dean and Sam. Sam looked like the carefree eighteen-year-old that he was, while Dean looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders — and seemed closer to thirty, than his true age of twenty-two.

"I'd rather have a beer," Dean mumbled, staring into his cup of coffee. "But I suppose that isn't going to happen."

"No, I'm afraid not." Castiel took a seat in his favorite chair and watched Dean closely. "You know what really bothers me?"

Dean held up a hand. "Listen, if this is the start of a 'stop fucking up because you have a good girl and a kid' lesson, believe me, my uncle Bobby has said it a thousand times. So save it."

"Actually, it's a lesson about Sam." The name got the desired reaction from Dean — he stopped talking — so Cas continued, "He's studying psychology this term, it's a general requirement for first year students, especially pre-law, and I know I haven't known him very long, but it seems like a topic that would be perfect for him. He loves people, and he wouldn't be pre-law if he didn't love helping them out of bad situations. So I was a bit confused, when he mentioned that he didn't like the class."

"Does this story have a point, or can I go take a shower?" Dean took a sip of the coffee, avoiding Cas' gaze.

"I was confused until I met you, Dean." Cas watched carefully, judging his reaction. "Despite the fact that you have spent your whole life trying to protect Sam, what you don't realize is how badly you are hurting him now. My best guess is this: when Sam reads the character profiles in psychology class, learning the ins and outs of a sociopath, he pictures you, Dean. Sam knows the truth — that his brother is just one step away from making a bad choice that will land him in prison for the rest of his life."

Dean was silent for a long time, and Cas actually believed that he had gotten through to him... until Dean set his cup down and forced a smile. Though he remained calm, Cas could see a fire in his eyes.

"Right. Good talk. It was actually believable until I remembered you were a fucking bible-thumping theology major. Trying to help me find God, right?" His voice dripped with sarcasm as he stood, motioning to the hallway. "Bathroom is this way? Thanks."

Castiel shook his head, as the bathroom door slammed shut. Dean's reaction could only mean one thing: his observation had hit the nail square on the head.


	5. Chapter 5

Castiel had lunch ready when he got out of the shower.

Dean really wanted to hate the guy, but he would save that for later — after he ate the delicious burger waiting for him. Cas sat across from him and remained completely ( _nerve wrackingly_ ) silent. He was probably afraid that Dean would lash out again, and Dean couldn't lie... it was always a possibility.

The guy had no right — living with Sam for a week and suddenly acting like he knew everything about the Winchesters. There was no way Sammy was dumb enough to spill all of their deep dark secrets to the angel-wanna-be.

"Listen," Dean finally spoke, his plate empty in front of him. "This has been fabulous — but I need to get back to my son. Since I'm guessing Lisa took my phone and my car, can I use your cell to call for a ride?" It took everything in his power to ask politely, and yet the sarcasm still leaked out.

Cas stood, grabbing both of their plates and taking them to the sink. "You won't be leaving. Lisa won't allow you back home until you are clean, so Sam is letting you stay here so he can help you."

His aggravation grew quickly. "I'll be damned if Lisa is going to keep me from my kid." He got to his feet, moving into the living room to find his jacket so he could leave. It wouldn't be the first time he hitchhiked.

When he turned back around, Cas leaned casually against the door. Dean laughed at the sight. Sure, Cas was only a couple of inches shorter, and not much smaller, but he highly doubted the older man knew how to fight the way that Dean did. "You going to stop me?" he challenged.

"Would you honestly hit me?" Cas shot back, arms crossed over his chest. "Sam's friend and roommate. You would do that to him?" He unfolded his arms and spread them out from his body. "Why not, right? He already hates the man you've become. Maybe if you make this move, you can finally push him away for good. Once and for all. Save him the pain of having a brother like you in his life."

Dean pointed an angry finger at Castiel, mere inches between their bodies. "Shut up. Stop talking about Sammy like you know him! He's been here a week. One fucking week! You don't know shit about him."

Cas stepped closer, letting Dean's finger poke his chest. His hands were still held out — like he was daring Dean to make a move. "All I want you to realize is that I am trying to help _both_ of you. So you can either hit me and walk out that door — jeopardizing your relationship with Sam and everyone else you care about — or you can take your coat off, sit down, and relax."

"And what... let you psychoanalyze me while trying to turn me to God? Pray that he'll forgive me for my sins?" There weren't many things that Dean hated more than religion. If God gave a fuck about him, He would have made Dean's life just a little bit easier. Or at least Sammy’s life.

"The only one that needs to forgive you for your sins is _you_ , Dean."

Castiel dropped his hands, obviously seeing in Dean's eyes that he had won. Dean wasn't going to hit him. Despite the fact that Sammy would be better off without him, Dean wasn't strong enough to lose his brother. He never would be.

Stepping back, Dean rubbed a hand over his tired face. "Fuck, I wish I had a beer right now."

"Can't help you there." Cas moved to his chair, picking up his book to continue working on his paper. "There's water in the fridge, though."

"Fucking Angel," he growled under his breath, tossing his jacket down and moving to get a bottle of water from the fridge.

He sat at the table and stared at the bottle, willing it to turn into beer. He hated water. Water couldn't solve problems the way that beer could. He could still remember the first time he tasted a Budweiser...

\---

_"Come on, Sammy," eight-year-old Dean called. His little brother followed, skinny as a weed and tall for a four-year-old. Dean always wanted to get away from his clingy younger sibling but his mom would hear nothing of it — claiming that Dean was only allowed to play outside if his brother joined him._

_Sam was out of breath when he made it to him, standing at the base of the tree that held the treehouse their father had built them. "Why we here, Dean? Ma said be back in ten minutes for supper."_

_"Shut up, Sammy. Just go on." Dean motioned for his brother to begin climbing. He had learned his lesson early on — if he didn't stand below in case his brother slipped, he would get his butt whooped. Sammy had a scar on his knee, and Dean had nightmares of a belt hitting hitting his back._

_Dean followed Sam up into the treehouse and smiled, pulling out the prize from his pocket. "Look what I got."_

_The can was red and shiny, just like all of the others that their father drank from. It was unopened though — Dean had seen it behind the car after it rolled out of a grocery sack without his father noticing._

_"You're gonna get spanked!" Sam hollered, eyes wide with amazement. "That’s stupid, Dean. Don't do it."_

_Despite his brothers protests, Dean pulled the tab and opened the beer. "Winchesters drink beer, Sammy. It's part of life." He held up the can with a smirk. "Cheers," he said, mimicking the classy people from tv._

_He took a large swallow and scrunched his face up immediately. Sammy sat across from him, worry gone as he laughed at Dean's face. Dean couldn't believe how nasty the beer tasted. He shook his head, throwing the mostly full can out the opening of the treehouse. "Yuck!"_

_His little brother continued laughing. "Your face!"_

_Suddenly a large hand reached into the treehouse and grasped onto Dean's leg, pulling him out the door. Sammy screamed. Dean was thrown onto the ground by his angry father. He was only given a moment to catch his breath, before John swung. The smack landed against the side of his face, causing Sammy to scream once more._

_"You stupid boy! I work full time to provide for this family — all I get as reprieve from your mother's bitchin' are a few lousy beers and you think you can steal one from me?!"_

_His father grabbed his shoulder, pulling him to his feet. Dean couldn't hide his flinch from the pain, as he felt the strong fingers digging into his flesh. He wanted to cry, but he knew better. Winchesters didn't cry. "I'm sorry, sir," he stuttered, fear in his voice._

_"Damn right you're sorry. Just like your mother. If I ever catch you stealing from me again, boy, I will leave you out to rot." John shoved him back down, leaving Dean on the ground, and Sam in the treehouse crying, as he walked towards the house. "Get your sorry asses inside — your mother called you for supper five minutes ago."_

_Dean waited until his father was out of earshot, before he pulled himself back up. He moved to the ladder and climbed a few steps, holding his shaking hand out to his little brother. "Come on, Sammy, let's go."_

_He helped Sam climb down, before wrapping a protective arm around him as they began a slow walk back to their home. They were halfway there, when Dean realized that Sammy was still sniffling. He stopped, leaning down so that he was eye level with the younger boy. "It's okay. You have to stop crying, Sammy. He'll get mad."_

_"He's already mad," Sam sniffled, wiping a small hand along his eyes to clear the tears._

_"At me, not you." Dean ruffled his brothers long hair and forced a smile. "You were right. I was stupid. Good thing I have you around — it's nice to have a smart brother."_

_"I'm not smart!"_

_They began walking again, the tears drying from Sam's eyes. "You are smart," Dean replied. "And a boy, which is great. Ma swore you were going to be a girl. I can't imagine having to deal with a little sister all of the time."_

_"Yuck!" Sam giggled._

\---

Dean wiped his eyes, his vision clouded with tears as he remembered those days. Their father had only ever known how to be a drunk asshole. And after their mother died, it only got worse.

Sammy was right, trying to get him clean. If he didn't stay sober, he was just one step closer to turning into his father. And that was one thing he couldn't do to his son. Ben deserved better.

\---

Sam half expected his brother and Cas to kill each other while he was gone. What he didn't expect was that they would be sitting in the living room watching a movie. Like everything was... perfectly normal. He frowned. "Uh.. hey, guys. Everything okay?"

He looked at Cas, hoping his roommate would see the unasked questions in his eyes. Cas caught his gaze and nodded with a small smile. "Everything is fine, Sam."

"Sam is trying to figure out how we kept from killing each other," Dean explained, sipping at a bottle of water and only glancing briefly at his younger brother.

"Well he should know that I was worried for a moment, when you pinned me down with a knife at my neck — but after that, things seemed fine."

He felt momentarily panicked, but Cas wasn't looking at him... he had turned back to the television, preventing Sam from being able to see if he was telling the truth.

Dean nodded, looking to Cas for a moment. "You hold your own in a fight, Cas. You didn't even flinch when the knife nicked your skin. Next time I take on idiots in a bar, I want you on my team."

They were teasing him! Sam felt stunned at the realization. His brother was getting along well enough with someone that he was making jokes? That hadn't happened in years. Even Bobby had to struggle to get him to relax.

Something funny happened on screen, causing both Dean and Castiel to laugh. Sam couldn't help but smile at the sound. The idea that his brother was and could continue to be happy, delighted him. Sure, they'd had a shitty childhood... but they were both adults now, and it was time for them to move on.

"I'm going to change and clean up." They were both too interested in the movie to even realize he'd spoken. Well then. Sam turned, heading for his bedroom. Who knew that someone like Cas, could be what Dean needed to calm down?

\---

When the shower started running, Dean looked back over to Cas. "Thanks," he mumbled softly.

"For what?"

"For making light of everything, so he doesn't worry."

Cas watched another couple movie scenes before turning and catching Dean's gaze. His serious look took Dean by surprise. "You two... your brotherly dynamic fascinates me." He paused for a moment, obviously trying to sort out his thoughts. "I have two brothers that I would do anything for. If they called for help, I would go. If something happened to them, I would be heartbroken." He pointed at Dean. "You and Sam have that, but on a much deeper level. You instinctively look out for one another — but you don't let on that it's happening — to the point that I'm guessing you would lie to him, to keep him safe."

"I would," Dean whispered. "I have." He couldn't look at Cas for another second, so he focused on picking at the label of his water bottle.

"Why?" Cas asked. He had gone over it in his brain for hours, while he pretended to study... the Winchester brothers were like a puzzle he wanted to solve. Unfortunately, Cas was beginning to think that it was a puzzle with a million pieces, quite a few of which he was missing. "Sam is still young, but I'm fairly certain that he could handle the truth."

"But he shouldn't have to know the truth." Dean's voice changed, growing darker with emotion. "He should be able to live this life without knowing all of the horrors behind the scenes. That's why I protect him."

Cas frowned, feeling sorry for them. He didn't know the whole story about their childhood, but whatever happened — they didn't deserve any of it. They deserved to go back and relive their lives like normal children. "I hate to break it to you, Dean, but he's already seeing that stuff. He sees it every time he watches you battle your demons."

Before Dean could say anything else, the bathroom door opened and Sam stepped out, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. When he walked into the room, he gave them both unsure looks — just like he had when he got home from work. Cas forced a smile, focusing his attention back on the movie.

"I was thinking about ordering a pizza," Sam stated.

Cas looked over at him in surprise, wondering what happened to the health food fascination.

"Damn," Dean mumbled, gaining the attention of the two other men. He looked up at their curious gazes and shrugged. "Was hoping Cas would make dinner too. Lunch was good."

Sam's confusion was obvious in his tone, "Cas doesn't cook."

"Well, Sammy, the burger I had for lunch would suggest otherwise."

The Winchester brothers both turned to him, and suddenly Cas could see the resemblance. Generally speaking, they didn't look much alike. Hair shade, skin tone, that was about it. But with a matching look that clearly said 'we-know-interrogation-techniques'... there was no denying their relation.

"You told me when I moved in that you didn't know how to cook!" Sam exclaimed.

"I don't." They weren't buying it... "I may have googled how to cook burgers... since you said Dean loved them."

Dean shook his head. "No way. That thing was perfection on a bun. No way you made that your first time out."

"I didn't." He fought back a laugh. "My first try turned to a burnt crisp... so I ordered delivery from the place across the street."

There was a long silence, and Cas quickly ducked his gaze. He didn't want Dean to know how much trouble he had gone through just to make sure he had a good meal. When he raised his gaze again, Sam was looking at him with amusement in his eyes, while Dean just seemed confused.

"Right. You said something about pizza, Sammy?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of this chapter mentions self-harm. Skip past the italics if you're worried about this triggering any pain.

_He wasn't sure what woke him up, but fear rushing over him propelled him out of bed and towards the hallway. The house was mostly dark, including the living room, which meant that his father was still working. He stopped to peek in Sammy's room and checked to make sure his baby brother was still sleeping, before he moved towards his parents' room. He was halfway down the hall when he heard a loud thud hitting the floor._

_He moved faster, hands shaking as he gripped the doorknob and slowly twisted it... summoning the courage his father always showed. When the door swung open, he froze at the sight. All he could see was blood._

_The bed was soaked red. In the middle, his mother lay lifeless, a knife in one hand — cuts running down her other wrist._

Dean jumped awake, the dreams image frozen in his mind. It had been years since he thought about finding his mother's body. Usually the memory was suppressed into the deepest recesses of his mind — thanks to alcohol and other substances. Apparently, without the drugs in his body, he had to deal with the nightmares.

This was why he drank.

In the dark of the living room, he sat up on the sofa where he had been sleeping and looked down at his hands. His eyes adjusted well enough that he could see the shaking and he could almost feel the metal doorknob in his hand.

Balling his hands into a fist, he stood. It took luck and concentration to make it into the kitchen without tripping over a table or a pile of books, but he managed. Flicking the light on, he was momentarily dazed by the brightness. It didn't stop him for long though, and he continued his mission.

It took opening every cupboard in the small kitchen before he found what he was looking for: a tall, almost full, bottle of wine. Thankfully, he knew Sammy well enough to know that he wouldn't toss the cooking wine... it had probably sat unopened in Cas' kitchen before Sammy moved in. Pulling it out, Dean popped the cork out before raising the bottle to his lips and drinking.

As expected, it tasted like shit. If he wasn't so desperate to vanish his mother's image from his mind, he would leave in search of a bar or a liquor store.

"Feel better?"

Motherfucker. Dean pulled the almost empty bottle from his lips, afraid to turn and see the accusation in his brother's eyes. "You don't understand, Sammy." He slowly faced his little brother. "I just... I just wanted to sleep."

"Do you even care anymore? So many people love you, Dean! And instead of letting them help, you continue to do this to yourself. Are you just determined to turn into him, or what? Want to make Ben an orphan too?"

"Shut up, Sam," he growled. He could feel his anger rising and tried to suppress it. His brother knew exactly which buttons to push, in order to piss him off. "Just... stop. I'm done—” He tipped the bottle and poured the last of it's contents down the sink. "Just go back to bed."

Years of pent-up feelings were obviously not going to allow Sam to stop that easily. "You're a coward, Dean. Scared of what might happen if you let go of your demons. You might actually be forced to live a happy life, which you obviously don't think you deserve."

"Because I don't!" he yelled. "I don't deserve to be happy. Not after everything I've done!"

Sam stepped forward, closer to Dean. Dean wanted to move away, put as much distance between them as possible, but he couldn't.

"You haven't done anything, Dean. You haven't. Not anything that deserves this kind of punishment."

His mouth opened, the truth ready to slip free, but he caught himself just in time. Sammy wasn't ready... not for that.

"Sam." They both turned, noticing that Cas had stepped into the kitchen as well. Dean had no idea when. As soon as Cas had Sam's attention, he motioned him closer and leaned forward to whisper something to him.

Dean was confused, but whatever he said worked, apparently, because Sam just shook his head with a huff and walked towards his bedroom. When they were alone, Dean looked down at the empty bottle in his hands. He was ashamed, but he could still see her — he could still see blood.

Cas walked over to the front door and put a pair of shoes on. "Come on, let's go for a walk."

"A walk?" His eyes moved to the clock on the stove. "At three in the morning? Are you crazy?"

"I heard you say that you couldn't sleep..." Cas picked up Dean's shoes and held them out to him. "Walking will help. Fresh, cold air. Scenery to distract your mind."

Ample opportunity for Cas to angel-babble him. Dean knew he should say no, but his eyes flicked towards the hallway, envisioning Sam sitting in his bedroom. He stepped forward, grabbed the shoes, and bent over to put them on.

A few minutes later, they were walking silently in the moonlight and heading towards the Stanford campus, based on the road signs. Despite Dean's initial worries — Cas didn't say a word. At first it was nice... until it was suddenly too quiet. "So," he said, fingers tucked in the pockets of his jeans. He looked towards the other man, "Am I faith-healed yet?"

"You do realize that addiction is something that doesn't just get better, right? It's a constant struggle every day that will stick with you for the rest of your life." Cas kept looking forward as they walked, concentrating on some off-in-the-distance point.

Dean knew exactly what it did to a man — he had watched first hand as it pushed his father into the grave. "Hopefully you aren't going to be the kind of priest that has to council people in the future." He tried to make a joke, desperately needing the attention off of his problems.

"I'm not going to be a priest. Priests don't go to college, Dean."

"Wait." He stopped walking, causing Cas to stop and turn around, a few feet ahead. "Why theology then?"

The older man avoided his gaze, but not the question. "It was strongly suggested that I study theology. Which, in case you're curious, means that I still allow my father to control my actions... even though I'm almost twenty-five."

Dean looked at the ground and continued walking. Castiel might not like his father suggesting his career choice — but Dean had to admit, he would give anything to have a father that cared that much. Especially one that was alive. His father had been dead for over ten years, and Dean still wasn't sure if he hated him or missed him.

"I have a theory." Cas hurried to catch up to him. "It's obvious that your past is something you don't want to think about, so why don't we talk about the present?"

He frowned. That didn't sound any better. "Right. Because my sham of a life is much easier to talk about."

The were finally at the college and Cas led them to a bench that sat beneath a large oak tree. When they were both sitting, he spoke, "Why stay with Lisa if you aren't happy and she isn't happy?" Before Dean could answer, Cas pointed at him. "Ben is not an answer. It is doing more harm than good if two parents force themselves to live under the same roof just for the child's sake. All he is learning from that example, is that a 'typical' relationship means two people hating each other."

He was right. Dean leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. Other than Ben, he didn't have a reason why he was still with Lisa. Any other woman and situation, he would have been long gone. "I don't know," he finally whispered. "All I know is that I promised her, when she told me she was pregnant, that if she kept the baby I would always take care of her."

"You could happily live down the street and still take care of her."

"Damn it." Dean was tired of him being right. He was tired of being analyzed. Sitting up, he looked over to Cas. "My turn to ask a question. Why do you care so much? Why do you keep pestering me about all of this? It can't just be because of Sam; you barely know him any better than you know me!"

Apparently he had asked the right question, because for once — Cas seemed to be stunned into silence. Dean waited patiently, expecting the answer to be something about one of his siblings going through addiction.

The answer he finally gave, seemed to surprise both of them. "To be honest, I feel a connection to you, Dean." He paused, glimpsing over at the younger man before quickly looking away. He sounded like a teenager with a school crush, when he continued. "I like you."

\---

The next morning, Dean woke up on the couch when his phone landed on his stomach. He opened his eyes, frowning up at his brother looming over him, before looking down to where his phone lay. "Wondered what happened to that." He had assumed it was still in the Impala, with Lisa.

"What did you do to Cas?" Sam asked, remaining still as Dean sat up on the couch with the phone clutched in his hand.

The mention of Sam's roommate brought back memories from the night before. The walking. The talking. The declaration of some kind of affection... Dean shook his head. "Nothing, why?"

"He went to his brother's for the day — and he seemed kind of upset." His brother's arms crossed over his chest. "Last I saw, he was trying to help you last night when you raided the cupboards. So what did you do, Dean? Did you say something to him?"

There had been a lot of talking, but Dean hadn't been the one screwing things up. For once. "Maybe he just wanted to see his brother." He ran a tired hand along his face. "Although I can't imagine why anyone would want to spend time with their sibling. My experience... it just leads to wake-up interrogations." Flicking the screen of his phone on, he frowned when he noticed the list of nine missed calls and seven new messages. "Fuck. Why didn't you tell me that my phone was going nuts?"

"It was on silent, laying on my dresser. I noticed a few minutes ago that the light was going off." Sam turned, heading for the kitchen.

Dean scrolled through the numbers, noticing that the majority of the calls were from Lisa, the day before, while a few were from local Sacramento numbers that he didn't recognize. Something was wrong. She never called when she was pissed at him. His heart sank as he pictured the worst. God, Ben....  
 _  
"Listen Dean... I know I said that you could come home when you got clean, but maybe you should just stay gone."_

_"Dean... Dean, there's someone else."_

_"God. If you aren't answering just because you're pissed off at me, well then that's just stupid!"_

_"He's here, Dean. I've packed mine and Ben's things. We're going to stay with Dick for a while."_

With each message he felt his anger growing. She had _left_ him? For a douchebag named _Dick?_

Then the fifth message clicked on, and Dean heard the panic in her whispers. _"Something's wrong, Dean. I need you. Please, hurry."_

He looked at the time stamp between the fifth and sixth messages. A thirty minute difference.

_"I'm texting you his address. He's acting so different. Dean..."_ The line clicked off abruptly.

The seventh message, confirmed his worst fears... _"This call is for Dean Winchester, my name is Rachel and I'm a nurse at Mercy General Hospital. We need you to give us a call as soon as you receive this message."_

"Dean?"

He looked up at Sam, his voice shaking as worry completely set in. "Something's wrong, Sammy."

\---

In the end, the only answer that he got from calling back to the hospital, was that he needed to arrive as quickly as possible... and go straight to the ICU. _Intensive care._ Even the words signified that something was very, very wrong.

Sam drove, after he convinced Dean that getting there in one piece was more important than Dean breaking every speed limit law in order to get their quicker. Forty minutes later, they walked into the hospital and Dean rushed to the main information desk.

"How do I get to the ICU?" 

The older woman gave a string of various directions, but all he heard was 'fourth floor'. He rushed to the nearby bay of elevators, slamming his hand repeatedly on the button to call the car as quickly as possible. It was the type of thing that Sam would normally yell at him for doing, but his brother remained silent at his side.

On the fourth floor, the ICU was guarded by double doors and an intercom. A sign above the intercom read _'No admittance without approval.'_ Dean pushed the button.

When a woman asked if she could help them, he answered quickly, "My name is Dean Winchester—”

Just the name was apparently enough, because the lock on the doors clicked and the nurse informed them to come on in.

When he reached out to grab the door handle, his hand was shaking. He flashed back momentarily to the day he found his mother...

"Dean." Sam had opened the other door and walked into the ICU, before apparently turning back to stare at Dean, who had frozen.

His brother's calm and supportive voice quickly stopped the memory in it's tracks and he forced himself to keep walking.

The ICU wing at Mercy General was bright, sterile, and overwhelming. He looked at the hallways flanking them on both sides... at the countless doors that led to countless patients in the worst conditions possible. He felt like he had to throw up, as he realized that his son could be in one of those rooms.

"Mr. Winchester." He looked up to see a young woman walking towards them in scrubs. She wore a sad smile... and it was all that Dean could see. "My name is Rachel. I'm glad you could make it."

He nodded. "Is Ben okay?" It was terrible, he knew, but in that moment he wasn't even thinking about Lisa's condition. His first thoughts were of his son, and only his son. The worry was so overwhelming that all he could focus on was one thing at a time — and Ben was his main priority.

Rachel's smile seemed to turn a little less tragic as she nodded her head. "He is. Ben? We've been guessing at his name since they arrived. All that we could find was information on his mother." She motioned for Sam and Dean to follow her, as she moved to the nurses station.

There was another woman sitting at the desk who smiled at them briefly before focusing back on the paperwork in front of her. Rachel left the brothers and walked into one of the side offices. The door was open but the light was off... a couple of minutes later, when Rachel walked back out, she held a sleepy Ben in her arms.

"Thank God," Sam whispered beside him.

Dean felt the same sense of relief, except for the worry that was beginning to hit him about Lisa's condition.

"We weren't quite sure what to do with poor Ben. He came in on the ambulance with his mother, but he didn't have any injuries. The nursery didn't have a spot for him, and social services said it would be this evening before they could send someone up. So we rolled a crib into our break room and let him get some rest." Rachel held the boy out to Dean, causing Ben to stir at the motion.

When his eyes landed on his father, his entire face lit up. "Da!"

Dean pulled him close like he never had before, burying his face against Ben and breathing in his scent. "I love you, son," he whispered. "I love you so much."

Ben, not understanding his father's emotions, turned his head and smiled when he saw his uncle. "Smee!"

"Hey kid." Sam leaned forward, kissing Ben's forehead and ruffling his hair, his voice choked with emotion.

"Mr. Winchester," Rachel finally spoke, disrupting the reunion. "We need to discuss Ben's mother."

Lisa. Sweet, innocent Lisa. He continued to cling to Ben as he finally looked up. "Okay."

"She was found in a hotel room in East Sacramento. The neighbors complained about hearing shouting and then a baby wailing. She was beaten... badly. The doctor is worried that there might be some internal bleeding in her brain, so he's put her into a medically induced coma."

Fuck. He could hear her voice on his phone. _I need you. Please. Hurry._ If he hadn't fucked up with the drugs... he would have been with her. This wouldn't have happened! "Where is she? Can I see her?"

Rachel nodded, her eyes moving over to Sam. "Can you keep an eye on Ben for us?"

Dean reluctantly let the boy go into his brother's arms. Ben, thankfully, didn't seem to think that anything was wrong in the world. He babbled like normal, reaching his hands up and tugging at Sam's hair. Dean passed one last glance in their direction before turning to follow Rachel down the hallway.

They were ten doors down, before they stopped. The nurse spoke, warning him that what he would see wasn't the normal Lisa, due to all of the medical equipment connected to her body. He just nodded, steeling himself for the sight.

He walked into the room on shaky legs, and pushed the curtain aside. When he saw her, he felt sick. She looked so fragile... and he was reminded that despite everything they had gone through together, she was still only nineteen.

His legs gave out and he dropped to his knees beside the bed, letting his head rest on the mattress as he felt his emotions hitting a breaking point and tears beginning to fall. "I'm sorry, Lisa. I'm so fucking sorry."


	7. Chapter 7

"Are you still at your brother's house?"

"I am, everything okay? How is Dean?"

Sam glanced up from his phone, letting his eyes land on the hospital room door across the hall. Since going in to see Lisa, Dean hadn't been back out. Knowing that it would probably be a while, Sam settled in the waiting room with Ben in his arms. Thankfully his nephew had fallen back asleep once he felt secure enough.

The problem was... Ben had arrived at the hospital without any supplies, which meant Sam was dealing with a ticking time bomb, not knowing when Ben would wake up and need a bottle or a diaper change. And without the boy's car seat... he was stuck.

"Not good. Lisa was attacked. She's in the ICU. Your brother lives in Sacramento right? I'm here with Ben and don't have any of his things."

Aside from asking Cas to help, Sam didn't know what else to do. The only other option that he could think of, was letting the nurses watch Ben while he ran over to Dean and Lisa's home. He just couldn't bare the thought of leaving the boy, though.

"I'd love to help. Text me the address and a list of things you need."

He smiled gratefully at his phone and texted the required information, before remembering that Cas would need a way into the house and sending a second message with the location of the hidden key.

_’Should be to you within the hour,’_ Cas replied back.

Sam really had lucked out when he found the older man's roommate ad. Not only had he gotten a reliable roommate, but he had a friend willing to step up whenever there was a need. He just wondered what had happened between Cas and Dean, to make Cas so upset that morning.

A few minutes later a new nurse walked in holding a clipboard. She looked at him and then the baby, before asking softly, "Are you Mr. Winchester?"

"One of them." He motioned towards the door to Lisa's room. "The other is still in there. I asked the nurses not to disturb him, though. Something I can help with?"

She held out the clipboard. "I have some papers regarding Miss Braeden that need to be signed. Information regarding her insurance coverage, present address... all of the basics that we weren't able to get when she arrived because of her current condition."

He shifted Ben carefully so that he could free his right hand and took the clipboard from her. "I'll answer what I can, and ask my brother to fill in the rest later, if that's all right?" She nodded, turning to leave. "Oh, miss---" When she looked back at him, Sam continued, "My roommate Castiel will be here soon. I asked him to grab some supplies for Ben. Can you make sure he's allowed in, when he gets here?"

"Of course."

\---

"This is weird, you know."

"Helping out a friend is weird?" Castiel sent a questioning glance in his brother's direction, before reaching down to pull the hidden key out from under the rock Sam had described.

Gabriel followed Cas into the house, albeit a little reluctantly. Cas could honestly care less about his brother's opinion on the situation. Dean and Sam needed his help and he would gladly do what he could.

"You having friends is a bit weird."

He rolled his eyes, looking around the small house. Gabriel was right on one account — it felt weird to invade on Dean's personal space. His not-so-happy relationship with Lisa and the resulting sorrow that seemed to seep from the walls. Walking into the living room, he noticed the pile of bedding beside the couch (Dean's bed? Or just leftover laundry that hadn't been put away?) and the scattered beer bottles (definitely Dean's).

"Oh I get it now!" Gabriel exclaimed. Cas turned to see his brother standing by a shelf that held various family photos. Gabriel held one of the frames in his hand, turning it so Cas could see. "This is him, I take it?"

Stepping closer, Cas pulled the picture from Gabriel's hand and looked down at it. Dean leaned against his black Impala in the image, his head turned to the side — looking away from the camera. Cas could see the slightest hint of a smile on Dean's face and he wondered what it would take for Dean to always be so happy. Presumably... a completely different life. It seemed that bad just kept falling in his path.

His brother was staring at him, so he rolled his eyes and put the picture back on the shelf. "Yes. That's Dean."

Before Gabriel could give his opinion on the matter, Cas walked down the hallway in search of Ben's bedroom. He couldn't help but smile when he saw the jungle-themed room — he could almost imagine Dean complaining about every other option saying it wasn’t 'manly' enough for his son. Cas pulled out his phone, looking over the list of needed supplies once more.

"You know it is possible to like someone that isn't emotionally unavailable, right Cassie? Plenty of men and women in the sea." Gabriel leaned against the door and watched him, making no move to help.

He was quickly regretting the decision to tell Gabriel about Dean. Castiel had never successfully managed a relationship — there had even been the embarrassing time when he thought his boss was asking him out and she just wanted him to babysit her kid. Gabriel, on the other hand, could woo the pants off of the pope if he tried hard enough. He was nicknamed the 'trickster' for a reason — most women woke up the next morning after sleeping with Gabriel and swore up and down that they had been tricked into the whole thing. When Cas lived with his brother right out of high school, the revolving bedroom door had kept his head spinning. He finally gave up on trying to keep track of all the names.

It wasn't just his luck that kept him from handling relationships the way his brother did, though. If he didn't feel a connection to someone, Cas didn't see the point in wasting his time. Or the other person's.

Shaking away his thoughts, he focused on grabbing a bag from the closet and loading Ben's things into it. He heard his brother let out a frustrated sigh — Gabriel never could handle the 'ignore the trickster' treatment that all of the siblings knew to give him.

He mindlessly played with a toy lion while Castiel packed. "Did you hear Luci has a boyfriend?"

"No." Cas grabbed more diapers than was probably necessary, but he didn't know the exact science of how many diapers a one-year-old needed. Once the bag was packed, he set it in the hall and moved towards the other bedroom. Sam hadn't mentioned it, but Cas was pretty sure Dean would also need a change of clothes.

"Ohhh." Gabriel followed him with a glint in his eye. "Are we looking for their sex toys? This Dean... he looks like the type that would delve into amatuer porn creation."

"I'm not—” He shook his head, opening drawers and trying to find the ones that held Dean's clothes. "Luci has a boyfriend, you said?"

"Right. I'll let you change the subject because you will just love this... he's older. And I'm pretty sure he's married."

Castiel looked over in shock, and quickly slapped Gabriel's hands before he could open the bedside drawer. "Our Luci is dating an old married guy? Does dad know?" He turned away for a second and when he looked back, Gabriel was reaching for the drawer again. "Stop! I don't need to know about Dean's sex life with Lisa."

"Well it's not like he has a sex life with you that we can discuss!" Castiel's glare was obviously enough to show Gabriel that he had crossed a line, so his brother went back to the discussion of Luci. "The guy's name is Crowley. Dad doesn't know — I was sworn to secrecy after accidentally finding out on purpose."

"What kind of a name is Crowley?" Cas picked out two changes of clothes for Dean and threw them into a duffel bag, before leaving the bedroom. Grabbing the baby bag, he carried both to the front door and left them, before going towards the garage to get the carseat.

"British," Gabriel called from the hallway.

Carrying the carseat back into the house, he handed it to his brother before grabbing the two bags. "British? Where did Luci find an old married British guy to date?" He stopped suddenly, dropping the bags. "I almost forgot the formula!"

"Where does Luci find any of her men? I'm thinking he's her professor." Gabriel shrugged as Cas carried the containers of formula in, along with five bottles. "Who knows... Luci's evil... maybe she went to hell and picked up a new guy."

"Between you two and flamboyant Balthazar... it is no wonder that I don't like dating." Once he had everything packed properly, he picked the bags up again. "Come on, we need to get these things to Sam before Ben has an accident."

“Now _that_ is an adventure I want no part of.”


	8. Chapter 8

When Cas walked into the waiting room, he was followed by a shorter man with straight blond hair that was a bit long. There were enough similarities for Sam to know that the other man must be Cas' brother Gabriel.

Both men carried duffel bags, and Castiel also had Ben's stroller tucked under his arm. Sam couldn't help but laugh softly at the sight. He stood, Ben still tucked comfortably against him, and gave Cas a half-hug. "Thank you for doing this."

The other man shook his head as if it were no problem and set the things down in an empty chair. "Please think nothing of it. Sam, this is my brother Gabriel. Gabriel, this is my roommate Sam."

Gabriel smirked at Sam, "Pleasure. Cassie here didn't tell me that you were the better looking of the Winchester brothers."

Sam had no response to that, but judging by the roll of Castiel's eyes — it was just Gabriel being the 'trickster' of the family like Cas had described. Ignoring the comment with a smile, Sam looked back at Cas. "Would you mind holding Ben for a few minutes? I should probably check on Dean."

He expected Castiel to look nervous at the thought, but instead he just held out his hands to take the baby. Of course, once Ben was moved from his comfortable spot against his uncle's shoulder, he blinked his eyes open and looked around in a confused daze.

"Damn it," Sam muttered under his voice.

"It's fine, Sam. Go. Take a break. Between Gabriel and I, I’m sure we can manage."

He wasn't sure it was a good idea... but he also wasn't sure that leaving his brother alone in the nearby hospital room was a good idea either. "Thanks," he said, before hurrying across the hall.

\---

As soon as Ben saw his uncle leave the room, his lip began to tremble. Castiel knew instantly that he had volunteered for a 'mission' that he had no skills for.

Bouncing the baby soothingly, he looked up at his brother. Why was Gabriel smirking? Because he found Castiel's self-sacrificing ways to be hilarious, of course. Cas motioned to the duffel bag that he knew held Ben's things. "Look in there for the formula and a bottle. Then go make one."

Gabriel held his hands out in front of his body. "Whoa, brother, just because you offered me up as a babysitter doesn't mean I will actually... _babysit_."

Thankfully, after dealing with Gabriel's attitude for so many years, Castiel knew that the 'trick to tricking the trickster' was to always have a piece of leverage (okay, blackmail) laying around. "I heard Raphael is back in town. Did he ever hear the story about you and his wife? I love that story."

"Make a bottle, you said? I would _love_ to." Gabriel moved quickly to the duffel bag and pulled out the formula and a bottle, before scurrying out of the waiting room.

Cas watched his brother go, before looking back down at Ben. He no longer looked like he wanted to cry, but the baby certainly seemed... confused. Standing, Cas carried him over to the bag and pulled out a diaper and wipes.

"So, Ben, I hope you remember me. I'm the guy that helped uncle Smee watch you the other day." Ben continued to frown. "Cas... my name is Cas."

He looked around the room, trying to figure out the best location in the small waiting room to change the boy's diaper. Unfortunately, the room held only chairs without a table in sight. He shrugged, sitting down on the floor and laying the baby down in front of him.

"I'm guessing you would appreciate being changed. Please go easy on me... I haven't done this since my cousin Hannah was a baby — and she's in middle school now." Ben was watching him very closely, so Castiel made various funny faces while going through the process of changing the diaper.

When he stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry, Ben finally giggled. The laugh was infectious, causing Cas to laugh as well as he repeated the noise over and over.

"There you go." He snapped the last button on Ben's jumper and helped him sit up. Ben looked around the room for a minute before spotting his toys hanging out of the duffel bag and clapping. He crawled in that direction and pulled himself up against the chair so that he could reach the toys.

Cas smiled, stood up and threw the diaper away before moving over to take the toys out and set them on the chair so that Ben could reach them easier.

"Okay." He turned, seeing his brother walking back in with the formula tucked under his arm and the now full bottle held out like a trophy. "Here. This shit stinks. Why do they make babies drink it?"

"It can't be that bad." Castiel grabbed the bottle and held it up to his nose to test it for himself. Gabriel was completely right. "Yuck." He forced a smile and sat down in the chair beside where Ben stood. "Ben, would you like this?"

The baby looked up, spotted the bottle being held out and grinned. "Mmm." He wobbled carefully over so that his hands were laying on Cas' knees and once he found balance, he lifted his hands up toward Cas, obviously wanting to be picked up.

Cas felt his heart strings pulling as he lifted the baby onto his lap and gave him the bottle. Ben brought the bottle to his lips and began suckling while he rested back against Castiel's chest. After a moment, his right hand pulled away from the bottle and moved up to his light brown hair... which he began to twirl gently between his fingers while he drank.

"I'm not much of a kid person, but that is fucking adorable," Gabriel observed, sitting in a nearby chair.

Adorable was an understatement. Cas moved his eyes away only long enough to glare at his brother. "Stop cursing. Babies learn quickly at this age."

\---

Across the hall, Sam stood just inside Lisa's room, watching his brother. His brother's head rested against where he clutched Lisa's hand tight. He was sleeping, as far as Sam could tell.

Sam hated the whole situation. Especially the thought that Lisa had gotten so fed up with Dean that she went looking for love in other locations, only to have it backfire and leave her there. She deserved better.

And so did Dean. He deserved a fresh start in life where bad stuff didn't keep happening. Stuff that he kept blaming himself for. Dean deserved to be happy — Sam wasn't sure he ever had been.

Deciding that the best course of action would be to let his brother get some rest, Sam quietly exited the room. He went down the hall to use the restroom. After washing away the tears that he didn't even know had fallen, he slowly walked back to the waiting room.

\---

Once Sam returned to the waiting room, Gabriel made a quick exit — stating that he needed to get to work. Cas knew that Gabe wasn't scheduled that day, but also knew that his brother had reached his limit of hospitals and playing nice. He let the other man leave while he watched Ben finish his bottle.

Finally, Cas looked up and asked Sam how his brother was doing.

"He's asleep," Sam spoke, falling into one of the chairs with an exasperated sigh. "I know already that he's blaming himself for all of this. That's just what he does. And unfortunately, I know it's going to make matters worse." Helping Dean battle his addiction had taken a serious step backwards.

"Smee!" Ben demanded, throwing his bottle to the floor and holding out his hands to his uncle.

Sam reached over and pulled his nephew into his arms, forcing a reassuring smile. "Feel better now that you've eaten?" Ben was uninterested in replying. His focus had quickly shifted to Sam's hair. He reached up, using both hands to grasp chunks of it and tug as hard as he could manage. Usually Sam allowed the boy to mess with the long locks, but the current tugging was much more than normal. "Ow, Ben. Be easy."

Cas leaned forward to pick up the bottle, trying not to laugh at the two — he knew it would only encourage Ben more. "How about we go for a walk? He's going to get restless if he's stuck in this room all day." He motioned to the stroller, "that's why I brought that."

It took them a few minutes to figure out how to set up the stroller and then buckle Ben into it, but once they did, they headed out. Sam told the nurses where they were going, in case Dean woke up and worried, and then they left the ICU. They decided on taking the elevator down to the floor with the cafeteria, in hopes of finding something for lunch.

Though the thought of six-foot-four Sam leaning over to push the short stroller amused him to no end, Cas volunteered to push.

The walk from the elevator to the cafeteria was uneventful, but as soon as they stepped up to where the food was, Ben reminded the two men that he was there. He screamed. Louder than Cas had ever heard him scream before. Loud enough to make the whole room full of doctors and nurses turn to stare at them in concern for the baby's well-being.

Sam knelt down quickly, reaching the boys height and frowning. "What's wrong, Ben?"

The boy cried harder, legs kicking and arms outstretched to his uncle. "UP!"

"Okay." He quickly pulled his nephew free and picked him up, frowning when that made him calm down immediately. "You know, kid, all you had to do was ask. You didn't need to scream."

"He wouldn't be a Winchester if he just admitted his feelings without making a big fuss about it," Cas observed.

Sam gave him a wry look, knowing it was impossible to argue with Castiel’s logic. He carried Ben while sliding a tray with his free hand and creating a salad from the food bar.

Once he had stepped in front of the dessert area, Ben began wiggling in his embrace and clapping his hands. "Smee! Smee!"

"I know, Ben." He knew exactly what his nephew wanted.

"Jello?" Cas questioned, when Sam put one of the bowls of red jello on his tray. "That's what he's excited about?"

"Yeah." Sam grinned at Cas. "He likes red jello."

\---

Red jello turned out to be a bad idea. Ben had more fun grabbing it from the bowl and painting his and Sam's clothes with it, than he did just eating it. When they finally walked back towards the elevator, Cas was holding back a laugh as he pushed the stroller (which held a nicely wrapped sandwich for Dean) and Sam carried Ben. The two were both red from the waist up, and Sam was obviously trying to hide his aggravation as Ben slid sticky fingers through his hair.

"If you laugh, I'm handing him over," Sam growled.

Cas bit at his lip. "I'm not laughing."

When they finally made it back upstairs and gained access into the ICU, both men froze when they heard yelling from down the hallway.

_Dean_ , Cas realized. The other man's voice was very distinct — and very angry. They rounded the corner in time to see Dean lunging at a shorter dark-haired man. Cas reacted immediately, leaving the stroller and rushing down the hall to grab Dean just before he punched the older guy. Dean was stronger than Cas, and it was a struggle to hold him back. Sam was right behind him, but unable to help much with Ben in his arms.

"You fucking bastard!" Dean yelled. "You can't have me barred from her room! She's the mother of my son and we've lived together for almost two years!"

Cas noticed a small woman standing behind the man and tried desperately to figure out who these people were and why they looked slightly familiar. "Dean. Dean, calm down." Dean was still struggling in his grasp — like he didn't even realize Cas and Sam had walked up.

The older gentleman finally spoke, his voice icy cold and accusatory. "I don't want you or that abomination anywhere near my daughter! You are the reason she's laying in that hospital bed! She called us three days ago crying about her drug addict boyfriend. She wanted to come home, Dean. She was tired of you _and_ that baby!"

Suddenly Castiel knew exactly why Dean wanted to punch the man; and he had half a mind to let him go so that Dean could. Lisa's parents were obviously not happy about the current situation.

Looking over at Sam, Cas caught his gaze and nodded — knowing exactly what he was thinking. They only had seconds before hospital security showed up, or worse: the police. Dean didn't need that.

Placing a soothing hand on the small of Dean's back, Cas leaned forward and whispered softly in his ear. "Deep breath. Don't let Ben lose you too."

It was the mention of his son that seemed to snap him out of his anger. He visibly relaxed, but continued to glare at Lisa's parents. "Please get me out of here, Cas," he stated.

After collecting Ben's things from the waiting room, they left the ICU and the hospital. A mad mixture of anger, calm, and red jello.

\---

Since Ben's carseat was still in Castiel's car, Dean rode with him while Sam followed in his own car. Cas expected Dean to be brooding on the way to his and Lisa's home, but he was anything but.

"Her parents are flying her back to a hospital where they live. They don't want anything to do with Ben... which I guess is a good thing. But fuck, Cas, what am I going to do?"

"Well, that much is obvious." He glanced briefly at Dean, before focusing back on the road. "Sam and I have an extra room at the back of the house. It's just got a bunch of junk in it now, so we'll clear it out and you and Ben can stay there."

"Listen Cas—”

Cas held up his hand quickly, anticipating an argument. "You know Sam won't allow anything else. I won't either. It's happening, Dean. You can't do all of this on your own."

\---

It took a week of moving and rearranging their lives to get everything settled. With each passing day, Sam could see Dean closing himself off. It wasn't the fact that he had to move or be stuck with Sam and Cas; it wasn't even that he was suddenly a single parent.

It was Lisa.

While Cas played with Ben in the backyard, Sam found his brother sorting out the stuff in his new bedroom. "Dean."

He turned to look after tucking a box into the back of the closet. "Yeah, Sammy?"

Sam leaned on the door frame. He knew better than to force himself into Dean's space when he was in one of his moods. "I just want you to know, that I'm glad you're here. With everything that's going on right now... I'm glad I can help you and Ben."

"Thanks Sam," he mumbled, moving to the bed to unload another box.

"And I know you want to blame yourself for all of it, but Lisa's father was wrong. Her accident wasn't your fault. She's the one that decided to step out on you. She's the one who put Ben in danger by taking him to meet up with some stranger."

He received only a nod in response, and Sam knew it was pointless. No matter what he said, Dean was going to blame himself. Because that was what Dean did best.


	9. Chapter 9

Over the next two weeks, everyone slowly settled into a routine and Sam finally began to have hope that everything was going to be all right. Of course his older brother had remained fairly quiet over that time period, but he had managed to find a job at a local mill and settled into the groove of working while being a single dad.

 

Between the three of them, they arranged a schedule so that it wasn't necessary to hire help with watching Ben — something that amused Sam when he sat and thought about it. They were like a comedic movie in the making: _Three Dads and a Baby_. Or maybe they were slowly recreating Full House: single dad plus two weird uncles that were always around.

 

Either way, it worked.

 

And Ben, of course, had become completely smitten with Cas. Whenever he wasn't feeling good, or he got mad at his father and uncle — Cas was the one he wanted. 

 

That day, especially.

 

Sam held the screaming baby and tried to warm up a bottle. It was his day for 'daddy duty' since Dean was working and Cas had classes. Unfortunately, Ben was teething and had been screaming for three hours straight. No toy, television program, or teething ring had been able to sooth him. The bottle was a last ditch effort. 

 

Once it was warm, Sam held it out to the baby — only to be met with a clear rejection as Ben bit his lip and shook his head. He shoved a hand out, pushing the bottle away and screaming once more. 

 

"Damn it." Sam groaned, letting out an exasperated sigh. He didn't know what to do. "Ben, I'm sorry... I don't know what else will help."

 

"Ma!" The boy cried, reaching out to pull on Sam's hair. "Ma! Ma! Ma!"

 

Well that wasn't possible. Sam frowned, his eyes going to the clock on the microwave. Setting the bottle back on the counter, he put Ben in his playpen before going to find his cellphone. He hated to interrupt Cas in the middle of his class, but he didn't know what else to do. The older man was literally the only one who seemed to be able to calm Ben when he was in a mood. 

 

He sent off a quick text message, hoping that Cas hadn't shut his phone off. _’If it's at all possible, can you come home early? Ben's teeth are causing problems. Screaming for 3+ hours now.’_

 

Hearing a loud bang, he turned to see that Ben was hurling his toys out of the playpen one at a time. He was still crying, but the effect of using the toys to make noise seemed to be helping a bit.

 

The boy was definitely a Winchester. Soothed by the creation of a mess.

 

His phone beeped. _‘Give me ten minutes to walk home. Leaving now.’_

 

Thank God. Setting his phone aside, Sam moved over to the playpen and smiled at Ben. "Uncle Cas will be here soon. Will that make you feel better?"

 

"Ma!" Ben screamed, throwing a wooden block at Sam's face.

\---

Cas managed to make it home in eight minutes. He had left class in a rush, not even caring if he was disruptive to everyone else. He knew how badly Ben had been feeling thanks to his teeth coming in, and the thought of the boy crying for hours had his heart hurting.

 

When he stepped inside, he immediately frowned at the mayhem. There were toys thrown everywhere, Ben sat in the middle of his playpen screaming... and Sam walked out of the kitchen holding a bloody rag to his nose.

 

"What in the world happened?" Cas asked, setting down his bag and moving to pick up Ben.

 

Sam kept his head tilted back to stop the bleeding and replied, "He threw a block. I didn't manage to duck in time."

 

As soon as Ben was safely wrapped in Cas' arms, he began to quiet. He clenched his tiny fists in Castiel's shirt and looked up at him with tear-filled blue eyes. "Ma," the boy whispered, sniffling.

 

Cas smiled, kissing the boy’s forehead. "Shh. Let's get you some medicine for your teeth, shall we?" He carried Ben past Sam and laughed. "Is your nose broken?"

 

"I don't think so." Sam pulled the rag away, checking to make sure the bleeding had stopped, before following Cas and his nephew into the kitchen. "Since when does he call you Ma? I thought he wanted Lisa."

 

Finding the baby tylenol, Cas pulled the bottle down and set Ben on the counter in front of him. Before he answered Sam's question, he held out the bottle and asked, "Have you given him any of this yet?"

 

"Uh... no. I didn't know we had baby medicine..."

 

"I bought it Sunday when he started acting like this. WebMD said it was the best cure." Measuring out the proper dosage, Cas let Ben swallow the small amount of grape flavored tylenol and put the bottle back in the cupboard. When that was done, he picked the boy back up and rubbed his back. Ben laid his head down on Cas' shoulder. "To answer your question: I spent all day yesterday trying to teach him 'Cas'... but he wasn't getting it, and he kept getting mad at me. Every time I said Cas, he said 'ma'... And when I corrected him, he just screamed it louder. So I gave up. If he wants to call me 'ma'... I don't see the harm in it."

 

"You know, now that I think about it, I'm not sure I ever heard him call Lisa that. He hadn't quite gotten to the point where he could say it." Sam rinsed out his bloody rag in the sink and watched Cas with his nephew. The baby had already relaxed enough to fall asleep — obviously exhausted from the whole ordeal with Sam.

 

Cas let out a soft sigh and snuggled against the baby as he swayed gently. "I just hope Dean doesn't get mad about it. Seems like something he wouldn't like." He kept his voice soft, not wanting to wake Ben.

 

"Well it's not like you did it on purpose."

\---

Dean arrived home at twenty after six, like he normally did.

 

Despite all the worrying that Sam and Cas did, Dean seemed to be handling things okay — and hadn't once fallen off the wagon and arrived home drunk or stoned. 

 

Having sent Sam off to enjoy a night out with friends — something he hadn't gotten to enjoy since Dean moved in — Castiel was in the kitchen cooking dinner while Ben sat in his highchair and banged a wooden spoon against a large pot. 

 

Dean set his lunch bag down on the table and smiled softly at Ben, before looking towards Cas. "Hey. Where's Sammy?"

 

After putting the casserole into the oven, Cas glanced back at Dean. "Went out with a group of friends. Figured he needed a night off after the Ben torture earlier today." 

 

"Torture?" Dean leaned down to his son's level in the high chair. "Did you torture uncle Sammy? Show him who was boss?"

 

"Smee!" Ben replied cheerfully, reaching out to tap his father's nose with the spoon in his hand.

 

Cas laughed. "Watch it. He threw a wooden block at Sam's face and gave him a bloody nose."

 

"Sometimes Sam deserves it." Dean glanced over towards the oven. "Do I have time for a shower before that's ready?"

 

Cas gave him a nod and Dean kissed the top of Ben's head before moving off to the bathroom to shower. He couldn't believe how domesticated his life had become. And he also couldn't believe how much it didn't bother him. 

 

After showering, he was in the midst of getting dressed in clean clothes, when he heard his phone beep. Reaching over, he picked it up and frowned at the sight of a new text message from one of the guys at work, Benny. 

 

_‘Boss found out. Wants to see you first thing in the morn'.’_

 

Fuck. He set the phone back down and ran his hand through his wet hair. 

 

Earlier in the day, he had gotten into a slightly physical disagreement with a co-worker that reminded him a little too much of his father. It had been stupid and inconsequential — but fighting was obviously grounds for termination. As he stared down at the man on the floor, he had quickly come to his senses and apologized, hoping he could prevent having his boss hear about it.

 

The old guy had grumbled and swore as he walked off. Dean had looked towards Benny, who had pulled him away from the argument, and begged for help. He needed that job. He couldn't just sit around Castiel and Sam's house and pretend he was okay. He needed an escape from his thoughts and demons.

 

If he got fired, it would be even harder to find a suitable job replacement thanks to the new mark on his record.

 

Gathering his things, he stepped back out of the bathroom, feeling frustrated with himself. What good was he? He couldn't even hide his temper at work.

 

Instead of dealing with Cas and his questions (because they were guaranteed to happen), Dean went to his room and shut the door behind him. 

 

He was laying on the bed, headphones on and ipod blasting AC/DC when Cas nudged his leg half an hour later. The music was so loud he hadn't heard the other man walk in or speak. He pressed pause and pulled his headphones off. "Yeah?"

 

"Dinner is ready." Cas stared at him for another moment, before moving back towards the door.

 

"I think I'm good," Dean called after him... only to be betrayed a second later by his stomach growling. His sandwich from lunch had long since worn off.

 

"Bull. Come on. I don't waste my time making dinner just to have you lay in here sulking. We don't have to talk, but you're going to come out and eat."

 

Having said his peace, Cas walked back out of the room. Dean milked it for another ten minutes before he climbed off the bed and strolled to the kitchen table.

 

The casserole was accompanied by dinner rolls and a bowl of green beans. Dean watched for a moment as Cas cut up some of the green beans and laid them out on Ben's tray so that he could pick them up and eat them by himself. 

 

It occurred to him that Castiel was a better father than he could ever dream of being. Ben was lucky to have him and Sam around. Dean would probably have starved himself and Ben if he had been left alone without help. And they would surely be homeless since he couldn't afford childcare and housing on any salary he earned.

 

He should just leave them. 

 

He slumped into his chair and knew it was true. Ben would be just fine without him — Sam and Cas could provide for the boy and raise him to be a genius that never got angry or lost a job because of some asshole that said he was a good-for-nothing hick.

 

Dean's appetite was gone as he watched Ben carefully and felt sadness washing over him. He had always wanted to be a better father than John Winchester. Maybe being that meant giving up his son for the greater good. 

 

He had to leave if he wanted Ben to stand a chance.


	10. Chapter 10

That night, Dean planned everything. He had no idea where he would go or what he would do when he got there, but he knew that he was right — he had to leave. After watching Ben sleep in his crib for an hour, Dean quietly packed everything he would need into a duffel bag. He left a long letter explaining his plans, his need to go, and his dreams that Ben would be better off without him.

He also made sure to add in that he relinquished all custody of Ben to his brother. Sam would be so much better for the boy.

The letter was placed on his bedside table, and he leaned down to give Ben one last kiss goodbye before grabbing his duffel and stepping out of the room as quietly as possible. 

Since it was nearing one in the morning, the house was quiet and the other two bedroom doors were shut. He walked softly down the hall, hoping not to wake anyone, and set his bag by the door so that he could pull on his favorite jacket.

"I had a feeling this might happen," an eerily calm voice spoke from across the room. 

Damn. Dean pulled his jacket on and turned to face where Castiel stood in the kitchen, holding a glass of water. There was no judgement in the other man's eyes... just sadness as he stared down at Dean's bag.

He sighed. "I have to go, Cas. Ben is better off without me."

Cas took a long sip of his water, before setting the glass down on the table and stepping towards Dean. "I hate that you feel that way. That boy loves and needs you." He placed his body between the door and Dean, leaning on it as he held Dean's gaze. "But also... you need him. I've seen it, more than a few times. When you are angry, or have a setback, the only thing that brings you back to yourself is Ben. Where will you be without him?"

Dean looked down to the floor and bit back his emotions. "I don't know. But you and Sam, you're so much better at this than I am. Without you guys, Ben and I would have starved... and we'd be living on the streets, I'm sure of it."

"We're helping, Dean. We aren't replacing you. And is that your intention? Leave Ben here for Sam to take care of? Do you realize the type of struggle that would cause for Sam? I know he would do it. I have absolutely no doubt in that fact. But I also know that he would be forced to drop out of school so that he could focus on supporting Ben fulltime. Is that what you want for them?"

"Damn it, Cas," he groaned, shaking his head. "Why do you have to be so fucking smart?"

The other man laughed. "I'm still amazed that I've figured you out so easily, to be honest. Before you, I didn't focus much on people and their actions."

"Well, would you stop?" Dean slowly, regretfully, pulled his jacket off and hung it back up on the hook. "How am I supposed to make bad decisions with you here guiding me on the proper path?" He looked up, a fake glare on his face. "You really are a fucking angel."

Cas shrugged. He reached out, placing his hands on Dean's shoulders and turning him towards the kitchen. He guided him to the table and left him by a chair to sit down, before moving to the fridge.

"I have a surprise for you."

"More life advice?" he asked with a groan as he sat down.

"Better." He pulled out a plastic container from the fridge, and grabbed a couple of spoons before sitting down next to Dean. He popped the lid on the container, showing off the apple pie inside. "You were too broody earlier — so I didn't tell you about this."

"Pie." Dean looked up at Cas after staring at the pie for a long moment. When he met the other man's gaze, he couldn't help but smile. He was offered a spoon, which he gladly took before digging into the middle of the pie and getting a bite.

They ate in silence for a long while, taking small bites of delicious apple pie. Eventually, Dean felt a need to fill the silence. And he wasn't quite sure what provoked it — but he began to tell a story he had never shared before.

"We didn't have much food when I was little, even before my mom died. We were in Kansas, and dad made minimum wage working at a paper mill. Since he earned the money, he felt that it was his right to spend half of it on beer."

Cas held his spoon, but didn't reach for another bite. Instead, he sat quietly and listened to Dean speaking. 

"Once mom died, it got worse. Dad couldn't hold down a job, so we got welfare checks and food stamps. The welfare checks went towards whiskey, and he left me responsible for buying the food."

He paused, and Cas couldn't stop himself from asking, "How old were you?"

"Ten, maybe eleven. I had to make about a hundred dollars last all month... for three people." Dean shook his head. "I didn't eat much, just so that Sammy got enough."

He wasn't a fan of his own overbearing parents, but Castiel couldn't imagine living in the type of situation that Dean was describing. He and his siblings had always had food when they were hungry. 

He couldn't stop himself... he reached over and laid his hand on top of Dean's, wanting to show some type of support. It was good that he was talking — getting his demons out in the open. And even if Cas didn't know why, he wasn't going to jeopardize the moment and let Dean clam up again.

"Dad died in April. Couple months after my twelfth birthday. He had worked some, the previous year, and he got some tax money." Dean ducked his head, and Cas realized he could see a tear rolling down his face. "Sammy was sick. He was so tiny for an eight year old. And the lack of food was getting bad. Sammy got the flu and just never really got better. One night we were driving home from the store and I was arguing with dad. I wanted him to take Sam to the doctor. I knew he needed it. I begged and pleaded — swore I wouldn't eat for a month, if he would use some of the tax money and just take him in..."

Dean's words broke off, emotions choking his voice. Cas squeezed his hand and slid closer, using his free hand to rub Dean's back. Neither of them noticed a lone figure stepping to the edge of the kitchen to listen in.

"Dad was drinking in the car. And while we argued about it, he kept swinging his arm out to slap me, telling me to shut up and stop trying to waste his money. Sam was fine, he said, just faking being sick so he could get attention. I looked in the backseat, noticed Sam slumped over and pale and I reacted... I grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it. Dad hit me, lost control, and we went over an embankment into a river. I must have gotten knocked out, because when I came to, the car was sinking and dad was out cold. I moved as fast I could, climbing over the seat and unbuckling Sammy. By the time I had gotten the backdoor open, and pulled Sammy to the shore... the car was gone. I realized then, that I had let my dad die without even trying to save him."

There was movement across the kitchen and Cas looked up to see Sam there, rushing to the table and dropping down beside his brother. He quickly wrapped his arms around Dean, hugging him close as he cried. 

Cas realized suddenly that he was witnessing a shift in the relationship between the two brothers. Dean had obviously never told Sam that story; Sam had probably thought there were different issues behind his brother's problems. But now that Sam knew, he could help Dean work through it.

Standing, Cas left the two of them there alone, as he went towards the back room to check on Ben.

\---

_Dean sat in the chair, listening to the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor. Despite numerous attempts by the hospital staff to get him examined by both a doctor and a psychologist, he refused to leave his brother's side. Two long days had passed since the car accident, but Sammy still slept. The doctors said it was normal — that his small body was recovering from the trauma and renourishing itself._

_He just wanted his brother to be okay. He wanted to see those curious eyes opening and looking back at him._

_There was a soft tap on the hospital room door, and Dean looked up to see Sam's current nurse walking in with a tray in her hands. She smiled at Dean and moved over to the table by where he sat, in order to place the tray down. She had a friendly smile; it reminded him of his mother._

_"I don't know if you remember, but my name is Jody."_

_Dean nodded, using his 'adult' voice to reply, "I remember." He had learned over the past few years that if he acted more like an adult, than a child, people would respect him and treat him like he was older. It came in handy when dealing with school officials and medical personnel._

_She lifted the lid from the tray and pushed it gently in his direction. "They tell me you aren't eating. Why is that? I know you must be hungry."_

_His eyes shifted back to Sam's bed. "I'm fine," he replied immediately. His twelve year old brain was still trying to work out how they would pay for the expenses of the hospital visit. And where they would be shipped off to. With worries of being sent somewhere without his brother, and losing all of his dad's tax money that could really help out... he didn't have the time to think about eating and how he could afford that, too._

_Besides, he was no hungrier than he normally was._

_Jody knelt down beside of his chair and laid her hand on top of his. "How can you protect Sam, if you get sick too? Your body needs food. And don't worry..." she gave him a reassuring smile, "it's free. As long as you are here, every meal is free."_

_Dean wanted to believe her. He really did. Especially when he could see and smell the cheeseburger and fries that sat on the tray. "Until they send out a bill."_

_She laughed, shaking her head. "Dean, you're twelve. The hospital won't bill you. The state will be responsible for the hospital bill." Jody stood back up, motioning towards the food. "Eat it all, or I'll have to use my mom voice when I come back in here, got it?"_

_He waited until she was almost out of the room, before he called out to her. "Jody?"_

_She stopped and looked back at him. "Yes?"_

_"You promise?" He looked at the food, his stomach grumbling. "That it's free?"_

_"I promise, Dean."_

\---

Winchester men didn't cry. Their father taught them that. Dean could still remember getting smacked on the back of the head when he was five and cried because baby Sam broke one of his toys. _'I'll give you something to cry about,'_ his father had said.

That lesson stuck with him for years. He never gave into his emotions, even after John died and Dean allowed Sammy to get emotional about stupid crap like bad grades. Dean didn't cry unless he was alone. Where no one could see the shame on his face and the fear brewing just below the surface when he thought about his father seeing him in that moment.

At 2:15 a.m. on a Wednesday morning, the Winchester men finally broke.

When he thought about it later, Dean wouldn't be able to remember what possessed him to speak about the worst years of his life. If he was completely honest, it probably had something to do with Cas. Castiel was a calming presence like none other he had experienced in life.

When Sam finally broke away from hugging Dean and moved to sit in the chair across from him, Dean couldn't help but laugh and wipe his own eyes. "Fuck you for making me cry, bitch."

"Don't be a jerk," Sam mumbled, hiding his own smile. After a moment, his expression went serious again. "Why didn't you ever tell me about that stuff?"

Dean shrugged his shoulders and found himself eating another bite of pie. "I thought you remembered."

"I blocked out a lot of those days. I remember dad getting the tax check. And then going home from the hospital."

\---

_Sam woke up a week after arriving in the hospital. Dean remained by his side the entire time — watching cartoons on the provided television and eating every meal that arrived for him._

_Numerous adults had been in and out, of course, but Dean had begun to ignore every one but Jody. He didn't care to hear from doctors or social workers. He didn't need some state official telling him that he had to leave his brother and accompany them to a temporary foster home._

_That particular woman had left in a rush. How could she not, when Dean informed her that he would kill himself if they so much as tried to take him away from Sammy. He was all that his brother had, and he'd be damned if the younger boy woke up in the hospital without a familiar face nearby._

_When Sam's eyes finally opened, Dean stood beside the bed and held his hand. He could see the fear in his brother's eyes, so he smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Sammy. We're okay."_

_The next day, the doctors said that Sam could leave once he was at a proper weight for his age — which he was only about a pound off of. Unfortunately that meant finding a suitable home._

_Dean sat in the chair beside Sam's bed, holding out his jello for Sam to take before he even asked._

_"Thanks," Sam said happily._

_He barely noticed. All that Dean could focus on was where they would be shipped off to. They had no real family left alive, which meant foster homes — unless Dean could think of a better option._

_When it finally hit him, he jumped up and let out a loud 'yes!' causing Sam to startle at the loud reaction._

_"Dean?" he asked._

_"Be right back, Sammy." He left Sam to finish his jello in peace, as he rushed from the room and down the hall to the nurses station. "Jody! Jody!"_

_She stepped out of the back room, reaching out to stop him before he slammed into her with all of his enthusiasm. "Easy there, cowboy. What's the rush?"_

_"We have an uncle! We have an uncle in South Dakota! We could live with him!" Dean was so excited, he could hardly contain himself._

_Jody frowned, turning to find a piece of paper. "An uncle? Is he blood related?"_

_"Yes." Dean nodded. "My grandfather's brother." He pointed to the paper. "His name's Bobby Singer. Sioux Falls, South Dakota. You have to find him, Jody. He'll come. If he knows we need help, he’ll come!"_

_She obviously wanted to be happy for him, but kept collected enough to give him a calm smile. "I will find him and call him, Dean. But just remember — taking on the responsibilities of raising two boys isn't easy. There might be a chance that he'll say no. You need to prepare yourself for that."_

_It didn't matter what she said. Dean could remember meeting Bobby for the first time — he could remember clearly the reaction Bobby had when he saw the bruise on Dean's arm. Bobby was family, and he would help. "He'll come, Jody. I know he will."_

\---

"We're the luckiest kids in the world, you know that?" Sam whispered.

Dean looked over to his brother and knew that he must be thinking about how quickly Bobby jumped at the chance to take them in. The man had raised them as his own without any complaint. Even when Dean was getting into trouble with the law and Sam was demanding hundreds of dollars worth of school supplies... Bobby was there.

Realization dawned on Dean. He spent so much time worrying about not becoming the type of father that John Winchester was, that he never stopped to think that he could also become the type that Bobby Singer was.


	11. Chapter 11

They developed a routine on Dean's bad nights.

Dean would leave Ben sleeping in his crib, quietly walk down the hall and tap twice on Castiel's door. Then, he would continue on to the kitchen, pour two glasses of water and grab a snack. Cas would wander in a few minutes later, sometimes rubbing his eyes... sometimes with his hair stuck up in fifty different directions.

They would sit up for hours talking, sometimes about the nightmares — but mostly just about random thoughts that would pop into their minds. 

As the months wore on, something began to change between them. They grew closer, and one night, Dean didn't knock. Instead, he quietly turned the doorknob before stepping inside and closing the door behind him. 

Cas, ever the light sleeper, rolled to face him and reached up to turn on his bedside lamp. He blinked, trying to focus his eyes in the light, and Dean gave him his typical look of apology. 

Dean didn't want to need anyone — but he had grown to need Cas. He was the only thing keeping Dean from drinking.

"Bad?" the older man asked.

With a nod and a nervous scratch at the back of his neck, Dean contemplated walking back out of the bedroom. It seemed like too much, to be there in Cas' space.

Castiel obviously didn't feel the same way because he quickly made room on the bed and raised the covers invitingly. "Come here."

After only a moment of hesitation, Dean went. The bed was soft and warm... and smelled like Cas. He stared up at the ceiling and let the whole environment surround him like a comforting embrace. The demons started to fade.

When enough minutes had passed that he could barely remember the nightmare that woke him, he turned his head to find Cas laying on his side and watching him curiously. His eyes trailed down to soft pink lips that could always talk him down from the edge. He snorted softly. "If I was drunk right now, I think I would kiss you."

Cas smirked, telling him with a teasing tone, "Well it sucks that drunk you is the gay one. Maybe we should rethink this whole sobriety thing."

It was obvious once more, why Dean had grown so attached to Castiel. Subjects that could easily turn awkward or be misinterpreted, were always brushed off as just a thing. No big deal. Cas selflessly put aside his own feelings (and Dean was well aware that he did indeed have feelings) in favor of making sure Dean was comfortable.

"How do you manage to play it so cool?" He frowned and looked back towards the ceiling, knowing that his words weren't coming out quite like he wanted them to. "Do you ever feel the urge to shake my shoulders and beg me to be gay?"

Castiel laughed, rolling on his back as well. "Every fucking day."

"Sorry," he replied with a smile. It wasn't the first time they had teased about such a thing. Dean had asked Castiel once why he never spent his free time going out on dates. Cas had answered with 'because I'm still waiting for you to accept your gay side.'

Silence settled around them, and Dean realized that he was comfortable enough to fall back asleep. He had all but forgotten about whatever had haunted him earlier. "I should go back to my room."

"Stay." Cas moved onto his side once more, curling his arms around his pillow. "Shut the light off and relax. We'll hear Ben if he wakes."

It was wrong, a part of him thought, but Dean still found himself doing just that — shutting off the lamp, and snuggling into the blankets beside of Cas.

He was asleep almost instantly.

\---

Sam had grown to expect a lot of things from his older brother. He expected angst, turmoil, grumpiness... actually, just about anything that resembled being an all around pain in the ass. And when he first moved in, Dean kept up that behavior. But slowly it faded. To the point that Dean actually seemed....

Happy.

Walking around the grocery store, Sam pushed the cart (where Ben happily babbled around an apple that he was gnawing on) and concentrated on Dean. 

His older brother was singing. Gently. So soft that Sam could barely make out some old Def Leppard tune. But it was the concept in general that surprised Sam. Dean had never been so happy that he randomly sang to himself and picked up boxes of cereal with a secretive smile. 

When the box landed in the cart, Sam leaned forward to notice that it was Castiel's favorite.

That explained the weird smile.

"Dean—"

"Yeah, Sammy?"

Was he actually concentrating on organic vegetables? Sam shook his head and focused. "You feeling okay?"

Dean looked up at him, holding a bundle of celery in his hands. "Yeah. I'm fine. Does Cas like celery?"

He bit back a choked laugh as he nodded his head. Dean dropped the celery in the cart and continued walking. "I think your dad is going insane," Sam whispered, leaning down to share the information with his nephew. The boy gave him a look that clearly said 'yeah, who cares, I have an apple.' 

He continued following his brother, watching as an assortment of meats landed in the cart. 

Suddenly, Dean stopped, a package of six pork chops in his hand as he looked at Sam. His entire face conveyed pure shock. "Sam.... Sammy, I think... I think I'm gay for Cas."

It was so honest and sudden — not a hint of sarcasm laced anywhere in his words.

Sam made it five seconds before he bent forward, holding his stomach as he began to laugh. He couldn't control himself; everytime he thought he could stop laughing, he looked up at his brother's face and started in again.

Shock turned to anger as Dean began to glare at him. "Knock it off! Don't tell me ultra-liberal Sammy has a problem with his brother being gay."

"First of all," He straightened, trying to pull himself together. "I have no problem with whatever sexual preference you choose to identify yourself as. Second of all, if anything you are bisexual, not gay. You like boobs way too much." 

Ben picked that moment to pull his apple away from his mouth and let out a loud, "Boobs!" 

Dean smiled quickly at his son before glaring at the older women who seemed to be watching in concern. His attention quickly diverted back to Sam, though. "Then why were you laughing?"

"Because, Dean, you've been in love with Cas for weeks now. I was beginning to think you would never notice."

"But—" Dean opened his mouth to speak, paused to look away, then turned back to Sam. His confusion was about to send Sam into hysterics again. "How?"

"I’m sure even the neighbors at the end of the block knew that you were in love." Sam replied with a smirk, maneuvering the cart around his brother and moving to grab a selection of yogurts. 

It took a couple of minutes before Dean found enough sense to catch up with him. Once he did, Sam smiled and felt the need to ask, "So, now that you know, how will you handle this information?"

They both knew that would be the difficult part. Dean wasn't good with commitment or opening himself up to a relationship. Although, Sam had to admit that Dean had never been himself with anyone, like he was with Cas.

"I have no idea. Is there a manual?" Dean frowned, staring at the cheese case like it would give him the right answers. "'How to turn Gay and Romance your Best Friend.'"

Sam snorted, "An autobiography by Dean Winchester." They continued walking, stopping for bread and cookies on the way to the check-out. "Why don't you take him out tonight? Just as friends. Ben and I will have a movie night." He leaned down closer to his nephew's height in the cart. "What do you say, Ben? You, me, and Spongebob?"

"Bob!" Ben agreed, nodding his head and smacking Sam in the face with his slobbery apple.

He looked back up to see Dean frowning and contemplating the idea of going on a 'date' with Cas. It was easy to see the excuses running through his mind — he wanted to back out, but Sam wouldn't let it happen. "It's official. Ben and I are kicking you guys out for the night."

"But what if—” 

Ben interrupted his father with another loud proclamation of, "Boobs!"

"No what if's. Even Ben knows you're being a boob."

\---

Cas enjoyed spending time with Dean, that was an absolute truth. So the idea of having a Ben-free evening with the other man was enough to keep a smile plastered on his face.

They drove into the city and had dinner at a restaurant that Dean claimed was 'highly recommended,' and it was indeed a delicious meal. The best part was getting to talk to Dean about subjects that weren't triggers for pain and heartbreak — something that they had never really been able to do.

When dinner concluded, they stepped outside and Cas looked over at Dean in time to watch his face light up. His focus was on the building across the street. Castiel smiled in amusement when he noticed the arcade.

"I bet I could kick your ass at pac-man," Cas stated, knowing that Dean wanted to go, but was too afraid to suggest something that might not be well received.

"Like hell!"

It was midway through a game, with Dean's side pressed against his as they shared controls, that Cas realized... they were on a date. Dean had asked him out to dinner, paid for the food despite Castiel's protests and then walked with him across the street to play old school video games in an arcade. It wasn't just a date, it was a damn good one.

His nerves hit him immediately, causing his heart to race and his hands to get sweaty on the controllers. He couldn't figure out if Dean knew that their evening had turned into a date, or if it had all just happened by accident. Coincidence, maybe. Just Castiel’s brain making up scenarios that it deemed suitable.

He tried desperately to ignore his thoughts and focus back on the game, but it was pointless. Dean beat him easily, and continued to beat him for the next two rounds. Finally, the other man stepped back and turned to Cas, giving him a teasing smile. "This is the lamest ass kicking I've ever received."

"I uh—” Dean's green eyes made his heart race for a reason that had nothing to do with nerves. "Got distracted," he finally answered. It wasn't a complete lie...

Dean smiled, easing away Cas' tension, before holding up two more quarters. "Air hockey?"


	12. Chapter 12

They stayed until the arcade closed, playing enough air hockey to make their shoulders hurt, and then got back into the Impala. Cas had to admit he was having fun and not at all ready for the night to end. Thankfully, Dean seemed to be thinking similar thoughts, because instead of driving towards the interstate that would take them home, he pulled off at a park by the bay front and parked beneath a streetlight.

"Come on," Dean called, shutting off the car and climbing out. He grabbed a blanket from the backseat and spread it out on the hood of the car, making Cas laugh as he climbed out the passenger side.

"What are you doing?"

"Watching the ships roll in." Dean climbed onto the hood and held out his hand to Cas, helping the other man climb up and get settled. "I always wanted to do this."

The lights from the Golden Gate shone down over the water as they sat in silence and watched a couple of cruise ships slowly coming into port. Castiel felt a calm roll over him as he sat there. He no longer worried about whether or not it was a date; did it really matter? He was with Dean, and even if he could only have small moments like that to cherish in their friendship, it would be enough.

"Cas?"

He turned his head and smiled when he noticed Dean watching him instead of the water. "Yeah?" 

It was apparently Dean’s turn to be nervous. He looked back out at the water, but moved closer to Cas on the blanket. “Thanks for coming tonight. It’s been a lot nicer than I could have ever imagined.”

His wording gave Cas pause. He had to ask, if he didn’t, it would forever drive him insane. “Dean, was this a date?”

Green eyes met his, nervous in the light of the streetlamp overhead. “Only… if you wanted it to be?”

Well then. He frowned. “What happened to the whole ‘straight as an arrow’ Dean Winchester?”

“Not so straight.” Dean waited a moment, before shrugging his shoulders. His tone was equal parts disbelief and happiness when he spoke again. “I’ve never liked a guy before, Cas. But that doesn’t stop my feelings for you and whatever this is we have going on.”

It made sense. From what he knew about Dean’s previous relationships, Lisa included, it was less about love and more about lust. Dean had never been in a positive friendship that could develop into more. 

The downside was that he could just be projecting his emotions onto Cas, because Cas was the only one there helping him heal. Which would leave Castiel hurt, if Dean realized his feelings weren’t real. 

“Stop it,” Dean demanded.

Castiel turned back to him, still frowning. “Stop what?”

“Overthinking this. Just… stop.” 

Dean obviously didn’t realize that it wasn’t that easy. “But—”

His words were cut off when Dean suddenly moved forward, placing a hand on his cheek and capturing his lips in a kiss. At first it was awkward, as Dean tried to figure out the concept of kissing another guy, and Cas tried to get over the shock of ‘oh my God Dean’s lips’. When the shock wore off, though, Cas fell into it, enjoying every second as he moved his own hand up to curl through the hair at the nape of Dean’s neck. Dean was definitely on the right track — kissing was much better than discussing whether or not feelings were real.

The kiss deepened, pulling him away from the real world and their surroundings. Nothing mattered except for the taste of Dean’s mouth and the feel of his tongue tangling with Castiel’s. When Dean’s free hand landed on his side and began brushing slowly beneath his shirt, he shivered. 

He pulled back to take a breath, but Dean didn’t stop. Instead his lips moved down across the stubble of Cas’ chin and onto his neck, sucking and nipping gently as he went.

“Dean,” he gasped, feeling lips hitting the spot that sent sparks straight to his groin. His eyes had focused on their surroundings though, and he knew that they had to stop before they attracted the attention of the police. “Dean, we’re going to get caught.”

“Thinking too much again,” was the reply he received. Dean’s hand had pushed far enough beneath his shirt to find his nipple and tweak it, bringing his attention away from getting caught. 

Dean moved back up to kiss his lips once more, as he gently pushed Cas back so that he was laying on the hood of the Impala. It wasn’t the most comfortable spot, but it freed up Castiel’s hands to push beneath Dean’s shirt and run along the rippled muscles of his back.

A hand was straying down to run over the front of Castiel’s jeans, when someone cleared their throat beside the car and the beam of a flashlight passed over their faces.

“Shit,” Dean gasped, pulling back in a rush and almost sliding off of the car in his hurry.

Castiel felt equally panicked when he sat up and saw the aggravated face of a police officer watching him closely. _Shit_ was correct. “I um… hi… Officer. Sir.”

The man looked unamused, as his eyes drifted from Cas to Dean. “Park is closed. Take this somewhere else, boys.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean answered immediately. He tugged at the blanket Cas was still sitting on, causing Cas to slide forward. “Leaving now.”

They both hurried to get into the car, still under the watchful eye of the cop. Once they had pulled out of the parking lot and back onto the main road, Dean let out a laugh. “That was fun!”

Apparently there were downsides to dating a bad boy… and being caught making out in public was one of them. “Our definitions of fun might vary—”

Still laughing, Dean reached over and slapped Cas’ thigh a couple of times. “I’m pretty sure you were enjoying the making out part.”

He had enjoyed every second of it.

Which was not helping his confusion about Dean’s feelings.

\---

Despite the obvious attraction they were both feeling, the relationship between Dean and Castiel progressed slowly from that point forward. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, of course, but it took three months for them to make it to the next step. It seemed sex in a house shared with a little brother and a fifteen-month-old baby was damn near impossible. Between naps and Castiel’s classes they sometimes found time to sneak in the room they now shared to make-out, but it was never quite enough.

Finally, Dean hit a breaking point. His balls were about to literally turn blue from all of the interrupted moments, and he wanted nothing more than to fuck Castiel hard on every available surface. 

Unfortunately, that meant bribing Sam into babysitting far, _far_ , away from home. 

When Sam finally agreed to take Ben to the city zoo, he promised Dean and Castiel four hours of alone time and, though it didn’t compare to a long night of sex in various locations, Dean quickly agreed. He filled Ben’s diaper bag with every possible supply, kissed his son on the head, and made it adamantly clear to Sam, “Any earlier and there will be nudity.”

As the door shut closed behind them, Dean grinned and turned to search for his boyfriend. He had last seen Cas making a snack, but the kitchen was now empty. As was the living room and bathroom. He paused in the hallway, spotting the only closed door — their _bedroom_ door — and smirking. He could already feel blood moving south to his cock as he laid his hand on the doorknob and twisted. 

Dean wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find in the room. But of all the possibilities, never in a million years would he have come up with the one that greeted him. Castiel was naked on the bed, propped up on all fours with one arm reaching around behind him. It didn’t take a genius to see the open bottle of lube and the movement of Cas’ hand and figure out that he was slowly preparing himself. 

“Holy shit,” Dean groaned. After months researching ‘gay sex,’ and numerous conversations with Castiel about likes and dislikes and the all around logistics of the act, Dean had about made himself sick with fear that he wouldn’t be able to get turned on when the time came. 

Standing in the doorway of their bedroom, watching Cas fuck himself with his fingers, Dean knew immediately that those fears were pointless. He had never been more turned on in his _life_.

He stumbled forward, finding it hard to think as he pushed and pulled at his clothes. He tripped as he kicked off his jeans, but caught himself on the bed and couldn’t be bothered to care. 

Blue eyes met Dean’s over a shoulder of tan flesh and it was impossible to keep his hand from reaching down to squeeze the base of his own dick through his boxers, hoping to calm his body down a bit. “God, Cas…”

“Wanted to be ready for you, Dean.”

“I can see that.” A tentative hand reached out, brushing lightly over the bare skin of Castiel’s ass. Passing glimpses of the other man getting dressed after a shower had shown him everything, but not like it was at that moment. _Presented_. Just for him. His hand moved down, spreading Cas’ ass cheek a little farther and watching two of Castiel’s own fingers scissoring inside his hole. “So pretty.” He reached for the discarded lube bottle and coated his own fingers. “Can I?”

His answer was a muffled, “Mhmm,” and Castiel moving his hand away.

Dean slowly circled his finger around Castiel’s rim, feeling his own heart race at the shuddery intake of breath that Cas took. It was different, slipping two fingers into Cas, in comparison to the last time he was with a woman. But… not a _bad_ different. He had feelings for his partner, feelings strong enough that gender became the least important factor. Instead, the part of his brain that sought out his partner’s pleasure kicked in. He added a third finger and shyly asked, “How do I find your prostate?”

The one thing that Castiel had been explicit about in their discussions was _communication._ As he put it: ‘No question is a dumb question, Dean.’ Now, he tilted his head, glancing over his shoulder at Dean and smiling. “You’re almost there; bend the end of your fingers a bit and—” 

His words cut off with a moan and full body shudder, causing Dean to smirk. “Found it.”

“Yes,” Castiel breathed, fingers clenched into the sheets. “Yes, you did.” He moaned through Dean stretching him open for a few minutes longer, before he started wiggling away. “I’m ready. I’m ready, please, Dean.”

Dean leaned forward, kissing a strip along Castiel’s back. “Turn over? Please?” They had discussed various positions and levels of comfort, but Dean couldn’t get over the fact that he wanted to see Castiel lose control. As Cas followed his request, Dean grabbed the condom that was waiting on the nightstand and shoved his boxers down his legs. By the time that Castiel was in a comfortable position — including a pillow under his lower back that Dean swore not to tease him about later — Dean had the condom on and his sheathed cock covered in more lube. He situated himself between Castiel’s legs, but worried less about _fucking_ and more about kissing the man that he had fallen for. 

As they kissed, Dean reached down to stroke Castiel’s cock, thumb brushing along the tip to collect the pre-come there, before moving back down to the base for a gentle squeeze. 

“Dean,” Cas groaned against his lips.

He pulled back, blinking as he met those piercing blue eyes. “Yes?”

Castiel reached up, tracing his thumb slowly along the lines of Dean’s face. “I love you,” he whispered.

He had always shied away from those words; worried about getting too attached to someone that he would probably let down. But… Castiel was different. Over the past few months while they had talked and grown closer, Dean had started to realize that he had never shown Castiel a fake version of himself. Instead, Castiel saw the Dean Winchester that was broken, cracked and _trying_ to heal.

As he carefully pushed inside the tightest heat he could ever remember feeling, he fell forward and peppered Cas’ neck and face with kisses. “Me too,” he whispered. Meeting that gaze again, he smiled, “I love you, too.”


	13. Chapter 13

\--- **One Year Later** \---

“Last box!”

Castiel stood on the front porch and laughed as he watched Dean walk towards him carrying a large cardboard box. Behind him, Ben trotted along, carefully carrying a small messenger bag that was always nearby and always filled with toys, books, and crayons. The bag had been a gift from Uncle Sammy, who had one exactly like it… albeit a little bigger.

He leaned forward to brush a quick kiss on Dean’s lips as he walked past, before reaching out his hands to Ben. “Come here, soldier.”

“Papa! I help.” Once lifted into Castiel’s arms, Ben arranged his bag carefully between their bodies. 

“I saw you helping. Where would Daddy and I be without you?” He carried the boy into the house, and closed the door behind them. Across the open space of the living room, Dean was setting down the last box with a well earned sigh. Castiel poked a finger at the spot along Ben’s rib cage that was always ticklish. “How about we order pizza, Benny? I don’t think Daddy is going to want to find the pots and pans.”

“Pizza!” The joyous outcry was followed by a wiggling out of Castiel’s arms and a scurry across the hardwood floors. 

Castiel watched the boy retreat down the hallway towards the bedrooms, before shrugging and walking over to Dean. He circled his arms around the younger man’s waist and laid his head against Dean’s shoulder. “So… how’s it feel?”

Dean’s hand creeped up the back of Castiel’s shirt as he stood there looking around the room. “It’ll feel more real once we have some pictures up. I want to hang the family photo from Christmas over the mantle, what do you think?”

Looking at the spot in question, he nodded. “Oh yeah. And maybe the art print from Sam’s new girlfriend, right up there with the morning sun will hit it.” 

“Castiel,” Dean said with a chuckle. “We aren’t putting a portrait of a naked Amazonian woman on our living room wall.”

“Why not? Totally classy.”

“God, Sam needs better taste in women.”

Reaching up, Castiel placed his hand on Dean’s cheek and turned his face so that he could lean up to kiss away his laugh. Once he pulled back, Cas smiled. “Welcome home, Dean.”

“Yeah.” Dean kissed the tip of Castiel’s nose, before pulling away. “I call ‘not it’ for unpacking!” He screamed, before hurriedly running down the hallway — just as joyously as Ben had a few minutes before.

Castiel took another second to look around their new house; the house that they had picked out together, going over their likes and dislikes… pondering school districts for Ben and commute times for Castiel. It was perfect. Not only that, but moving into their own space was going to allow Sam to meet new friends and bond with new roommates. Even if he hadn’t ever complained outright, Dean and Castiel both had discussed how Sam was obviously reaching an age where he didn’t want his brother and baby nephew killing his ‘game’. 

And they were only a twenty minute drive away, if anything were to happen — which big brother Dean had insisted on.

“Papa!” Two _very_ similar voices, screamed from down the hall.

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” He stomped his feet a bit on the wood floor. “The Papa monster is going to snack on some toddler toes!”

A squeal of laughter came from the end of the hall and Castiel couldn’t help but grin.

Their home was already _perfect._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story has taken what feels like a LIFETIME to finish, so to be at this point? Feels so amazing. If you've stuck with it throughout that wait? I applaud and thank you.


End file.
